


The Right Choice

by Trinkisme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hurt and comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-12-31 11:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12131118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trinkisme/pseuds/Trinkisme
Summary: He had always been the boy who had no choice...until he became the man who made the right one. Even after unbearable loss, love can be found...if one will look for it. If one will choose it. A Dramione love story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 

"I spy with my little eye something….green."

"Oh….dare's too many gweens in your home….can you gives me 'nother hint, Unca Dway-co?"

Draco looked down into the precocious face of the little boy sitting beside him. His jet-black hair curled around his head like a halo, indicating his mother's influence and the telltale emerald eyes revealed his father's. The handsome son of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger was watching him with an expectant expression.

Smirking, he indulgently gave in. "Oh, all right. I spy with my little eye something green….near the fireplace."

As the boy looked eagerly in the direction of the hint, Draco couldn't help but be reminded of all the times he had seen the boy's father push his glasses up his nose just like his son had just done. Little James had not just inherited his father's eye color but his eyesight, too, the poor little tyke. The round glasses perched on his nose looked too thick to belong to a boy of four, but Hermione had said part of the reason for his poor vision was James' love of reading. Well, at least that part was Hermione's fault. Draco didn't think he even knew what the alphabet was at four, but James always had his nose stuck in a book.

"Is it that vase ova dare?" he pointed.

Draco shook his head. "Try again."

While James searched, Draco thought back to how and when Harry and Hermione had become a couple. The war had changed many lives in the wizarding world. It had changed the Weasley's immensely. Unable to overcome their grieving for Fred, they had transferred their hatred of Voldemort to Harry. It was his fault Fred had died. If he had only conquered the Dark Lord sooner, their son might still be living. The feeling was irrational, it was wrong, but it was also unfortunately pervasive. Before long, the only Weasley who would speak to Harry was Charlie. Ron shunned him; Ginny gave him up. All he had left was Hermione, who had been given an ultimatum by her adopted family. Disgusting them all, she chose to stand by the Boy Who Lived.

Ginny had been particularly vindictive. "You've been waiting for this chance, haven't you? You always wanted him."

Draco shook his head. The youngest Weasley had been just as delusional as her older brother.

Ron had had a fit when Hermione stood staunchly by Harry. "I get it," he seethed. "Just like before when we were hunting horcruxes; you wouldn't leave him then, just like you won't now. I never had a chance with you, did I? Ginny was right."

Draco wondered at the Weasleys' intelligence. Didn't they realize they had effectively pitted Harry and Hermione against the lot of them? Of course, they would band together. Common sense should have told them they would eventually become a couple.

It had been a big sensation when Harry and Hermione announced their engagement. The Brightest Witch of her Age and the Chosen One were not back page fodder. The press had gone wild. Draco remembered seeing the headline in the morning's paper five months after his sentencing. Thursday, November 12, 1998 had been a cold day, he recalled. It had been two months since his father had received The Kiss for his crimes in the war. Draco had been been eating breakfast with his mother when the house elf brought the paper with the toast.

"Well, well, well…..," he'd said.

"What is it, Dear?"

Draco leaned over to hand the paper to his mother. "It's just what I predicted."

Narcissa hummed in sympathy. "Those poor dears. The way that Arthur's family is treating them is abominable. I do hope they will be happy together."

"Why shouldn't they be? Look at this article...they've got the whole wizarding world groveling at their feet."

Narcissa looked at him shrewdly. "Is that sour grapes I'm hearing, Son?"

Draco's face darkened. His mother could always read him like a book. But instead of confirming her suspicions, all he said was, "I don't know what you mean."

"Come now, Draco. There's no need to dodge my question. I'm not your father, bless his misguided soul. You've fancied Miss Granger for awhile, haven't you?"

Draco wasn't willing to admit to anything. Why should he when nothing would ever come of it? Especially now with the announcement of their engagement. "Me? Fancy a mud…"

"Don't say that word, Dear. Besides, that just proves my point. You never really believed that dogma, the same as I. For you to revert to your father's language meant I hit close to the mark."

Narcissa watched Draco as he sighed, then rested his face against his palm. At that moment, he didn't care that his elbow was on the table. "Mother…..what is the point of all this? Hermione is marrying Potter. With our history, she never would have considered me as a suitor. I was a loser before I started. Face it, Mum…..when have I ever been able to compete against The Boy Who Lived?"

"True losers are not those who try and fail, but those who fail to try." Then she gave her son a pointed look. "Don't hate others for trying when you would not."

Draco had no comment to that.

* * *

 

About a month after their wedding, Hermione discovered she was pregnant. Draco found out when she came into the potion shop he had just opened in Diagon Alley. His house arrest finished, he'd been busy stocking the store with potions he'd made while confined at the manor. Hearing the door magically tinkle to alert him to a customer, he'd gone to the front to see Hermione looking at different items on the shelves. When she saw him, a startled look appeared on her face.

"Malfoy….I…..I didn't realize…...you _work_ here?"

He grinned. "It's worse than that…..I own this store."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "You do?'

"The name over the door didn't clue you in on that, Granger?" he said, chuckling. He watched as her cheeks blushed crimson. "Er…..I didn't notice it…..sorry."

A myriad of emotions danced over her face. Taking pity on her, he said, "Congratulations on your marriage to Potter." He felt like a liar saying it, but it seemed to steady Hermione's nerves.

A small smile flitted across her features. "Thank you. It's uh….sort of the reason I'm here, to tell you the truth."

"Oh?" Draco didn't see how their marriage and his business had anything to do with the another.

"Er...yes. You see, it's just that I found out...um...that is, we were told that….well….," she looked at Draco's uncomprehending grey eyes, "I'm pregnant, Draco. And I need a potion….to help with morning sickness."

Draco felt like he'd received a punch to his gut. Hermione had called him _Draco_. Of course, she had to say it when announcing her pregnancy. Pain seemed to be Draco's lot in life…. his secret love was carrying Harry Potter's baby.

_Well, whose else would it be, idiot?_ He asked himself.

Still, it hurt. Try as he might to stomp out the flame within him that burned for the Gryffindor Princess, it wouldn't go out. He'd resigned himself to a solitary life. His mother had attempted to set him up with other witches, but even she knew it was futile. Draco's heart, like hers, would love only once. It was the Black way. Just because he wasn't loved back wouldn't change it.

"Are….are you alright?" Hermione's concerned voice brought him back to the present. She gently touched his arm.

Draco softly sucked in his breath. Misinterpreting it, Hermione hastily moved her hand.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn't know you still felt that way."

"I don't," he interrupted as he reached out to grab her hand. "I was just surprised. That's all."

Hermione's face brightened hearing that. It was torture for Draco to see it. Quickly letting go of her hand, he said, "I don't have what you need at present, but if you come back this afternoon, I'll have it ready."

Nodding, Hermione picked up her bag but before she began to make her way out of the store, she stood on her tiptoes to give Draco a soft kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Draco. Harry and I don't get much support. The Weasleys have a strong influence in the wizarding community, and you know…..we're not very high on their list."

Draco bristled in anger. Potter and Hermione should be the darlings of the Wizarding World, but thanks to the Weasley's campaign of blackballing them, they were now practically friendless. He put his hand on her shoulder. Hermione looked up questioningly at him.

"Not everyone follows the dictates of that House. You and Potter come to the Manor tomorrow night. Come be a part of our circle."

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, but nodded. Once she had left his shop, Draco groaned.

_I'm in for it now,_ he thought.

* * *

 

That had been the start of their friendship. Draco still didn't care much for Potter, but for Hermione's sake he bit his lip and pretended he did. On the evening of their first dinner at the manor, Draco invited Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott and Pansy Parkinson. He didn't know that the three he asked would bring others, but after he'd told them why he wanted them there, they lost no time in filling up the spaces around the Malfoy's dining table. Pansy brought Neville Longbottom with her; Blaise made sure Luna Lovegood was included. Theo, bless him, had remembered Hermione's friendship with Viktor Krum from their fourth year and dropped him a line, filling him in with Hermione and Harry's plight. The good-natured Bulgarian had brought his entire Quidditch team to the meal.

When Hermione and Harry arrived, Narcissa was the first to greet them.

"Welcome to the Manor, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," she said. "We're so pleased you could come."

Hermione and Harry looked around at the changed appearance of the manor. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. There was nothing there that reminded her of her previous visit and torture at the hands of Bellatrix.

Narcissa had her elves take their coats. Hermione was wearing a lovely heather-colored gown. The soft material showcased the small bump that was just beginning to show.

"Thank you for having us, Mrs. Malfoy," said Harry.

"No need to thank me, dear. This was all Draco's doings," she said.

Harry raised his brow at that. Hermione grinned and whispered, "Told you."

Narcissa led them from the foyer into the massive dining room. There, already seated was the group waiting for them.

"Blimey," Harry murmured as he looked at the faces looking back at them. "You didn't tell me, 'Mione."

"I…..I didn't know myself," she stuttered, tears beginning to form in her eyes at the overwhelming support.

Pansy was the first one who spoke. Rising from her chair, she haltingly said, "I would like to apologize for my...er….bad behavior, Potter. I'm glad you defeated that monster. Truly, I am."

He and Hermione could both see the sincerity in her eyes.

"I appreciate that, Parkinson," he said.

"It's Pansy to all my friends."

Both of the Potters understood Pansy's offer of friendship. Harry nodded his head, moved, but Hermione walked over to give Pansy a hug. "Thank you….. _Pansy_ ," she said gratefully.

"Aw, gee…..I'd forgotten what a huggy bunch you Gryffindors were," drawled Blaise while watching the tender scene.

"You don't have room to talk, _Blaisey_ ," Theo smirked. "You and your Ravenclaw are the definition of touchy-feely."

"Did you know the term touchy-feely's origins were from a Muggle politician's..…," was all Luna was able to get out before Harry cried out joyfully upon seeing his friend.

"Luna!"

After that, the formal dinner became more like a family reunion. Hugs and kisses and thanks abounded. Hermione went over to give Viktor a hug and a chaste kiss, Neville clapped Harry on the back and told him Ron had his head in his arse and Theo pretended to pout while saying loud enough for everyone to hear, "What about me? What about me, _huh_? If anyone deserves to be kissed by Granger, it's _me_."

He was finally silenced when Hermione grabbed his arms and planted a big, fat, wet kiss right on his mouth.

Hoots and whistles filled the air. Harry laughed, shaking his head at the expression on Theo's shocked face. When Hermione finally released him, he said, "Whoa…. Potter, you're one _lucky_ man."

Harry kissed his wife on the temple. "That I am, Nott."

Through it all, Draco kept quiet. He observed the flush of happiness on Hermione's face. Though he would never benefit from it, her joy made him happy. She and Potter would not be friendless anymore. Draco was pleased.

He had finally made a right choice.

* * *

 

After making that initial decision to help Hermione, other opportunities began to present themselves to Draco. When Harry had needed an endorsement from a member of the Wizengamot to apply for an Auror position, Draco had taken the seat left by his father and given Harry the backing. While there, he found out why that obscure regulation had been applied to Potter's case. He hadn't been surprised to find that Percy Weasley, acting on behalf of his father, had rooted out that requirement from a case back in the seventeenth century. Being Slytherin, Draco knew how to fight fire with fire. He immediately used his position and influence to retaliate with an equally obscure clause that restricted members of the same family having positions within the Ministry at the same time. Percy and Ron lost their jobs because of it. That seemed to subdue the Weasley's passion for persecuting the Potters. At least, for a time.

After that, Harry and Hermione enjoyed blessed peace. It was a good thing, too, for by then Hermione's due date was upon them. She had grown, lovely in her motherhood, thought Draco, until she resembled a walking bludger. Draco had teased her about it; Harry heard him and laughed. He told Draco he was right; she had become a bludger in other ways, too. Harry admitted to being slightly afraid of Hermione whenever her hormones took a downward turn. Draco had laughed. Without realizing it had happened, he and Harry had become friends, and not in name only. He finally learned why Hermione was so dedicated to the boy-who-lived. Harry was a good man. He had a kind heart. He was also humble, much to Draco's surprise. He wasn't afraid to admit his needs.

When Draco received a fire call a few nights later, Harry was panicking. "Help me, Draco," he panted. "Hermione's water broke. She's in terrible pain."

Draco immediately sprung into action. "Move over," he shouted as he entered his fireplace. He arrived with ash all over him to find Hermione doubled over in agony.

"Can you apparate with her to St. Mungo's?" he asked.

"Can't," Harry said, his voice quivering with worry. "It would hurt the baby."

"I'll go and bring a healer back here," said Draco.

"No….let me. I don't know what to do if something goes wrong."

"And I do? You need to stay with your wife, Potter."

But Harry, in a blind panic, hadn't listened. With a pop, he apparated away to St. Mungo's.

Just then, Hermione let sound a tortured moan that soon became a scream.

"It hurts!" she yelled.

Draco didn't know what to do. Then he recalled what had helped him the times he'd been crucioed by Voldemort. Taking Hermione's hand, he said, "Squeeze my hand at your next contraction and I'll talk you through it."

Hermione looked at him like he was crazy. "What good will that do?"

"Just do it, okay? I promise it will help."

Hermione didn't have to wait long to find out. It seemed no time had passed before the next contraction began to build. Doing what Draco had said, she squeezed his hand.

"Alright. I need you to keep looking at me. Look at me, Hermione," he insisted when her eyes started to close from the pain. "Relax your stomach muscles. Don't fight against the pain. Do it!" he demanded.

Shocked by his raised voice, Hermione tried to relax against the grip that was squeezing her body.

"That's right, love. Slip beneath the pain. Let it storm above you. You're underwater and not affected by the wave," he crooned in a soothing voice. So intent was he in helping Hermione, he didn't notice his slip-up of calling her "love". But behind him, Harry heard it. He'd just come back with the healer.

"You've done a good job, Mr. Malfoy...but let me take over now," the middle-aged woman said in a professional voice. "That baby needs to come out now." Soon she had Hermione breathing correctly, and before the two nervous wizards knew it, the sound of a newborn's cry filled the room. Draco slumped back against the wall in relief.

"You have a son, Mr. Potter," the healer said proudly. Harry took the wee bundle into his arms. A small little face, red from its ordeal, stared back at him.

"He's yours, alright. Look at his hair," Draco teased when he saw the dark strands standing up in every direction.

After the healer cleaned up Hermione, she let Harry and Draco come close.  
"He's beautiful, 'Mione," Harry said as he sat down beside her on the bed. Giving her a heartfelt kiss, he added, "Thank you, Sweetheart."

Draco knew he needed to leave to let the couple before him enjoy their special first time as a family, but his feet wouldn't move. He was riveted by the scene before him. Pureblood families always used their house elves as nannies. Once the birth occurred, the baby would be given into their care. But with Harry and Hermione, their son stayed with them. Kreacher came in once to peek at the newest addition to the House of Potter, then padded off, muttering to himself that his Mistress had done a good job despite being a muggleborn.

"Draco….don't just stand there by the door, come and hold your godson," chuckled Hermione in a tired voice.

"You want me to be his godfather?" he asked, disbelieving.

Hermione snorted. "Who else? Did you think we'd ask Theo?"

Draco laughed. "I guess not."

Moving to stand over the couple, Harry offered their son to him.

"What will you name him?" he asked.

Hermione smiled at Harry; seeing him nod in approval, she murmured, "You tell him."

Harry pushed up his glasses. Draco was beginning to think it was a nervous habit of his. "James, after my father. And Leo, in honor of his godfather's constellation name."

Draco looked up from staring at Little James. "Leo? You're giving him a constellation name….because of me?"

"The only reason we didn't name him Draco was because we thought you might want to name your own son that one day," explained Hermione, grinning.

Draco swallowed hard. "I…..I don't know what to say."

"Well, that's a first," quipped Harry.

Draco stayed with the small family for a few more minutes. Then he excused himself with the promise to visit the next day.

After he left, Harry nestled close to his wife and said, "He called you Love earlier; did you notice?"

Hermione looked up from nursing their baby. "What? When?"

"During one of your contractions."

"I don't think he meant what you're thinking. He calls Pansy that all the time and you know how smitten she is with Neville."

"Yeah….but this sounded different somehow."

Hermione gave Harry an amused look. "Are we searching for things to worry over now that James is here, safe and sound?"

Harry conceded it might be that.

But he didn't think so.

* * *

 

For the next four years Draco watched on the sidelines as Harry had the family he wanted. He tried not to be jealous; his mother's words about never having even tried haunted him at times, but he did the best he could with the graces he'd been given. He was a devoted godfather to James, often taking him over to Theo's so the two could spoil him with all the sweets the little tot could eat. Hermione would complain that James was always hyper after a play day with his godfather, but it never stopped Draco from indulging James' sweet tooth.

His relationship with Harry grew, too. When the tide of public opinion turned once more to the Weasley's favor after a bungled rescue attempt by Harry's Auror team, Draco took out an ad in the paper for his successful store. He'd made sure the image in the advertisement had Harry in it. The same was true when Witch Weekly's annual _Best of Britain's_ listing came out and Draco's store was given the _Best In Apothecary_ Award. In the magical picture that accompanied the article, Draco was holding James with Harry and Hermione by his side. Still, Arthur Weasley and his ilk tried to tear Harry down. When Harry's team had been wounded on another assignment, Arthur and his sons talked privately to the injured Aurors. The result of that was that five of the seven team members asked to be reassigned to another Captain. The display of no confidence hit Harry hard. Fighting dark wizards was the only thing he thought he was good at. If that was taken from him...

Harry began to suffer from melancholy. Seeing his friend struggle, Draco suggested that he retire from Auror duty and join him at his potions shop. That caused Harry to confess to Draco that his excellence in their advanced potion class was due solely to having Snape's old book. When Draco learned that, he laughed long and hard at Harry's sheepish expression.

"I wondered how you'd gotten so good," he smirked, crossing his arms in front of him in amused satisfaction.

"Oh….bugger off," Harry said, play-pushing Draco's shoulder. "You sound just like 'Mione."

"Don't bring me into your deceits, Harry Potter," she said. "You know how I felt about you using that book." She had James on her lap, trying to brush out his wild mane. "James, if you don't hold still, I'm going to ask Uncle Draco to take you to get it cut."

The little tot put his chubby little hands on top of his curly head as if to protect it. With big green eyes, he pleaded, "No! Unca Dway-co…..puweeaze…..don't cuts my hayah!"

"Then mind your mother, Little Monkey."

James immediately put his hands down. He knew _this_ game. "Is you's a monkey's unca, Dway-co?"

"What did you say?" Draco pretended to be mad, then with a quick swoop grabbed up the boy from Hermione's lap. James squealed with childish delight.

"Monkey's uncle, am I? Well then, this little monkey can swing from my tree!" Draco grabbed James by both ankles and gently let him fall to swing upside down.

Harry and Hermione smiled at the sweet-sounding giggles that erupted from their son.

_Who would have thought Draco Malfoy would be so good with children?_ thought Hermione. Not her younger self, that's for sure.

"If his lunch comes back up from all that swinging, you're cleaning it up, _Unca Dway-co_ ," Harry chuckled.

Righting the boy back up, Draco held the tot in his arms. "You're okay, aren't you James?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Do it 'gain!"

"I'm afraid not, Sweetheart," Hermione said, much to her son's anguish. "It's naptime now."

"No! No's sweepin'! I's wants to pway wif Unca Dway-co!" he protested.

"James, we can play again later. Now's the time to obey your mother...alright?"

Draco didn't often use that tone with James, but the little boy knew what it meant. His playful, precious Uncle believed him to be a big boy, was expecting him to _behave_ like a big boy, and if there was one thing James hated to do, it was to disappoint his beloved Draco.

"Alwight," he acquiesced.

"Good man," Draco said, pleased.

"Cans I have a kiss before my nap?"

"Of course." Draco gave the boy a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then Harry gave his son the same. Both men watched as Hermione carried James out of the room.

"He minds you better than he does me," Harry laughed.

"He's the best thing you've ever done….you know that, right?"

Harry looked at Draco. "Absolutely." Clearing his throat, he said, "Listen….while Hermione's out of the room, I've been wanting to talk to you about something."

Draco raised his brow. "Something you don't want Hermione to know?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not that I don't want her to know…..I just don't want her to worry."

Draco frowned. "What is it, Harry?"

Sighing, he said, "A couple of weeks ago, we rounded up a few Voldemort sympathizers. En route back to the ministry, they were able to overcome the _Incarcerous_ we spelled them with. A fight broke out. The one wizard who wasn't killed finally confessed a few days ago. He said their group had been trying to get to me."

Draco nodded. It seemed his friend always had a bullseye on his back. "And….?"

Harry looked down, a worried frown filling his face. "He said they'd made a vow. If they couldn't take me out, they'd target my family."

Draco's face froze. _Oh, God….._

Harry's forehead furrowed with worry lines. "I can't have that, Draco. I have to keep my family safe. That's why I can't accept your offer. I can't leave off being an Auror until the lot of them are found and imprisoned."

Draco's heart was beating a mile a minute. He'd known Harry was a lightning rod, but it had never occurred to him that Hermione and little James could be one, too.

"What can I do?" Draco had never felt so helpless.

Harry gave him a long look. "Promise me. If anything should happen….if they or someone like them are finally successful…..you'll see to 'Mione and James?"

"Don't….don't even talk like that."

Harry's emerald eyes pierced Draco's grey ones. "Please….won't you do this for me? No one loves them like I do…...except for you."

Draco's breath caught at Harry's implication.

_He knows…_

Lowering the walls he'd always kept high, Draco let out a defeated sigh and wearily asked, "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you known?"

Harry gave him a small smile. "Since the night James was born."

Draco tried to think back to that time, to what he had done that could have tipped Harry off, but he couldn't remember. "I promise on my magic….I never would have acted on it."

Clapping Draco's shoulder, Harry nodded. "I know. You…well," Harry chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "...you've become my best mate. I never blamed you for what you couldn't control."

Draco looked down at his shoes. He couldn't yet look Harry in the eye. "Does...does _she_ know?"

"No. I wouldn't do that to you. As I said, you're our best friend."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I owe you, Harry."

"Then give me what I want, and we'll call it even. Please Draco. I need that peace of mind."

Harry's face was so pleading, so earnest, Draco couldn't deny him. Or himself.

"All right, then. I promise."

* * *

 

Draco should have known. Harry had known more than he'd let on. Of course, he did. He'd always been such a martyr. Like before, when he left Hogwarts Castle to surrender himself to Voldemort, Harry, after receiving Draco's promise, left Hermione and James to finish the business his would be assassins had started. Only this time, they were the last ones standing. Intelligence had been received that the leader of the rebel group was ensconced in an abandoned barn outside of one of the smaller villages in Devon. Harry had gone with another team of Aurors to try to apprehend the rogue. They didn't know they had been set up and were walking into a trap. Instead of one villain to contend with, at least fifty wizards outnumbered the little band of seven Aurors. Harry and the others with him were ambushed. Harry was hit with so many _Avada Kedavra_ s, his spirit was long gone before his lifeless body hit the ground. Only one from the ministry made it out alive. Blaise Zabini had gone with them, not as an Auror, but as a prosecutor on behalf of the Wizengamot. He'd felt the explosion of power in the barn before he entered. Quickly disillusioning himself, he peeked in to see the carnage inside. Harry had been taken out instantly, but the other Aurors had not been so lucky. Instead of receiving a quick death, they were hit with _Reducto_ s and _Diffindo_ s. Body parts were everywhere. Blaise quickly backed out, overwhelmed with horror, but was nicked with a stray hex before he could disapparate. A large gash across his stomach appeared, bleeding profusely. Blaise barely made it to St. Mungo's in time.

Draco was in his shop, working feverishly. He'd just found out that morning that Harry had left to bring back the head of the gang. Draco couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that had clawed at his insides. He tried to stay busy, resisting the feeling of doom. He was in the middle of testing a new potion when an owl appeared at his window. Opening it up, he received the message from the exhausted-looking bird.

Something must have happened. St. Mungo's didn't usually tax their owls unless there was an…... _emergency_.

Draco's fingers trembled, fighting against the wax seal. When he got the parchment open, he read what was inside it. A moan of grief came from him as the parchment slipped from his fingers.

Little James was now without a father. Hermione was a widow.

Without a thought to what he was doing, Draco let his magic guide him to them.

He had a promise to keep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Warning:** This chapter contains subject matter some might find distressing. Death of a loved one and the grief from it is detailed.

Also, please note I will be veering from canon in regard to the cause of Harry's scar and the effects of the killing curse on a body. In the HP books, Avada Kedavra doesn't leave a mark.

* * *

Chapter 2

When Draco's magic finally stopped spinning, he saw it had taken him to the lobby inside St. Mungo's. Looking around, he quickly found Hermione and James in the middle of a mixture of reporters, ministry officials and hospital staff. His heart tightened painfully at the sight of Hermione's face. Misery and shock were etched all over her features. Without stopping to think of how it might look to the crowd gathered there, he strode over and took the two of them into his arms.

"Draco," she choked out. "Harry…...he's….he's…."

"Shh," he soothed. "I know."

Hermione's grip on James weakened; leaning heavily on Draco, she let his strong arms support her. "He's gone," she whimpered in a voice that tore at Draco from the inside out. James, confused and upset, cried in sympathy with his mother.

Draco took the boy's dead weight onto himself. Running his hand over James' curls, he whispered, "Little James...please don't cry. I'm here now. Uncle Draco will take care of you." Once Draco got him settled against his shoulder, he put his arm back around Hermione and said, "Let's get away from this madhouse. Hold on."

A moment later, they appeared in front of his mother inside the living room at the manor.

"Draco?" she asked, concerned when she saw Hermione's tear-streaked face. "What happened?"

Giving James back to Hermione, he pulled his mum off to the side and whispered, "It's Harry….he was killed in an attack today."

Narcissa gasped at the news. Looking over at the heartbroken family, she said, "What can I do?"

"Can you keep James for a time? Seeing his mother like this is not good for him."

"Of course….I'll be happy to. Is there anything I need to do for…?" she let her question trail off, but motioned with her hand toward Hermione.

"Not at present. But maybe later…."

Narcissa nodded, understanding. Going over to where James sat by his mother, she said, "Want to come with Baboo, James? The elves just finished baking your favorite pie."

The little boy looked up, his snotty face and teary eyes lighting up upon hearing that. "Dey's made chalklick pie?"

Narcissa smiled. "Indeed, they did. All for my big boy James." It was a little white lie that Narcissa had no qualms in telling. "Would you like to go eat some?"

He nodded his head eagerly and held out his arms for Narcissa. Picking the boy up, she said to Draco, "Take as long as you need. We'll be fine."

After they left, Hermione dried her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. "I can't believe she still lets him call her that."

James had been almost a year old when Narcissa's nickname came into being. He'd been learning to walk and had stumbled toward her, jabbering, "Ba….boo... ba….boo….."

"Come here, baby, Baboo will catch you," she'd responded. Ever since then, Narcissa had referred to herself as that name, even when Draco had teased her about it.

"Honestly, Mother...can't you come up with something better?" he'd asked. "It sounds like he's calling you a baboon."

Narcissa had laughed and said, "I don't care if it does. That's _my_ name, and no one else will have it. Don't you see? It' makes me special to him." Draco knew his mother thought James would be the only grandchild figure she would ever have, so she wanted to be someone important in his life.

Handing Hermione a clean handkerchief to use, Draco said, "You know Mother….she adores James. She thinks he can do no wrong."

For a second, Hermione said nothing. Then her face puckered with renewed grief. "Harry thought that, too."

Immediately, Draco pulled her into his arms and began to rub her back in calm, soothing circles. Speaking in a quiet tone, his heart filled with empathy for the woman he loved, he murmured, "I know….I _know_ it hurts. It's bleeding killing me that I can't take this from you. But love, listen….." Leaning back so he could look at her, he added, "I'm here, Hermione. I won't leave you. _I promise_. Just tell me what you need."

She buried her face into his chest, leaving fresh tear stains all over his shirt.. Hiccuping her answer, she said, "I….I need...I need to see him. They wouldn't even let me near him, Draco. They wouldn't let me say good-bye."

Draco held Hermione tightly. He didn't know why she wanted to view her husband's dead body _,_ but he wasn't going to question her. Not when she was like this.

Continuing to speak softly, he said, "I'll call Pansy. Her father is one of the directors of the hospital. I'll tell her you want to see Harry. She'll find a way to make that happen. All right?"

Hermione nodded, too exhausted to talk. Cradling her head against his chest, Draco murmured, "You're going to be alright, love. You and James both. I'll make sure of that."

He continued to comfort her until he felt her hold slacken. Looking down, he saw she had fallen asleep, worn out from her grief. Picking her up, he carried her to his room and gently laid her on his bed. Giving her forehead a soft kiss, he put a warm afghan over her, then tiptoed out of the room.

Draco would call Pansy first….then he would try to find out exactly what happened.

* * *

 

"Is she still sleeping?"

Draco, sitting on the sofa, nodded at his mother. "And James?"

"He's taking a nap, too. Draco….I gave him a drop of dreamless sleep." Seeing his look, Narcissa hastened to add, "He was starting to ask for his father, and I thought…"

Releasing a heavy sigh, Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "It's all right, Mum. It's probably for the best. I'm sure Hermione wants to spare him for as long as she can."

Narcissa gently put her hand on Draco's knee, just as she used to when he was a little boy.

"And what about you, Son? I know you'd grown close to Harry. You're hurting as well."

"I'll worry about me later. Right now, Hermione and James come first."

Narcissa gave her son a sad smile. Away from his father's influence and domination, he had grown into such a good man. Such a loving man. She knew his heart; it would always beat for Hermione. It was far too soon to bring up the fact that he could now pursue a relationship with her, but her mother's heart wanted him happy. For that to happen, it would have to include the two Potters currently sleeping upstairs.

A whooshing sound from the fireplace alerted them of Pansy's arrival. After Hermione had been put to bed, Draco had owled Pansy and told her of Hermione's request. As she stepped out from the hearth, Draco absently thought only Pansy could manage flooing while wearing five inch heels.

"Draco," she said as he helped her into the room. "It's crazy at St. Mungo's right now. I've never seen it this bad; not even after the last world cup when that nitwit of an official, Herbert Snodgrass, accidentally set fire to an entire section of tents."

In a low voice he asked, "Pans….how did the press find out so quickly about Harry? Do you know?"

She shook her head. "No, and that's very worrying to me. Deaths, especially deaths of high profile Ministry workers, are _always_ kept under wraps until the family is notified. The Daily Prophet knew about Potter before Hermione did."

That piece of information stunned Draco.

"Also….I don't know if you heard….but Blaise was with Harry and….."

"Oh God…. _Blaise_? Is he…..is Blaise..?" Draco couldn't finish his sentence.

"No….no, he survived," Pansy hastened to tell him, "barely, but he did. He was the only one."

Right then, Narcissa called out to Pansy from where she was sitting. "My dear girl," she said, rising up to greet Draco's old friend. "I wish our meeting was under happier circumstances." Receiving Pansy's kiss on the cheek, she inquired, "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"No thanks. Today is shaping up to be more of a firewhiskey kind of day." Looking pointedly at Draco, she added, "I wouldn't say no to a shot of it."

Narcissa pursed her lips, but Draco moved over to the wet bar and brought out a bottle of Ogden's Finest. "Here you go," he said after pouring her a finger's worth. Pansy expertly tossed back the glass.

"Gracious, Darling…..it's a sipping whiskey, not pumpkin juice," said Narcissa. 'You need to drink it slowly."

"Not after what I've seen," she said grimly. Turning to Draco, she asked, "Can't you talk Hermione out of this? Believe me, she's better off remembering how he was."

Draco was about to ask Pansy what she meant when a weary voice behind him said, "I want to see him now. _Please_ , Draco."

He noted the infinitesimal shake of Pansy's head before he turned around and said, "Hermione….are you positive...,"

"Yes. You don't understand…..I _have_ to do this."

Her eyes held a sort of desperation. Feeling he would regret this later, he said. "Very well. Let's go, then."

* * *

 

Once they arrived back at St. Mungo's, Pansy motioned for them to follow her through a doorway labeled, "Postmortem". She led them up a stairwell that had seen better days. When they reached the next floor, she looked both ways before she motioned for them to join her in the hallway.

"We're now in the morgue section of St. Mungo's," Pansy said in answer to the question she saw in Draco's eyes..

That made sense to him. It would explain why the area they were in looked so dilapidated. The hospital was subsidized by the government. They had limited funds. Of course, they would keep everything spruced up and shining in the parts of the hospital dedicated to the living, but why waste money on the dead? Who among them would complain?

"Harry's in room three. Hermione...," Pansy hesitated, before she took her arm, "brace yourself. Harry was caught in an ambush. It….it won't be pretty." She watched as a new batch of tears made their way down Hermione's face. Merlin, she felt like a heel saying that to her friend, but Hermione wasn't mentally prepared. Pansy could tell.

"Would you like for me to go with you, Hon?" she asked tenderly.

Hermione shook her head.

_Blasted Gryffindors,_ Pansy thought. Bravery wasn't always the answer.

"Thank you, Pansy. But I need to do this alone."

It didn't escape Pansy's notice that Hermione subconsciously squeezed Draco's hand after saying that.

_Don't you leave her_ , she mentally telegraphed Draco.

Rolling his eyes, he stared back, _Don't be an idiot._

Ignoring him, Pansy leaned over to give Hermione a kiss and a hug. "I'll be waiting right here," she assured her. "If you change your mind, have Draco call me."

"I will. Thank you again." With that, Hermione steeled herself and nodded to Draco. He opened the door to the sterile room. Hermione couldn't hold back a pitiful moan when she saw Harry's body on top of a table instead of being in a bed. It made his death all the more real. Beds were not wasted on corpses. Draco instantly had his arm around her back, supporting her. They moved to stand by the cold metal counter. Harry was covered by a thick plastic sheet.

"Hermione...are you sure.." was all Draco had time to say before Hermione pulled back the sheet from Harry's face.

His eyes were closed; he looked peaceful. Content.

Hermione's lips quivered as she brushed his cold cheek with her fingertips. "He looks like he's sleeping," she whispered. That morning she had awakened to see his face looking just as it did at that moment. The thought she would never wake up beside Harry again hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. She wept, pure agony ripping through her soul. She tried to muffle her cries by covering her mouth with her hands, but it did no good. The pain was merciless. Every memory of Harry was a cruel dagger to her heart.

Draco felt like a helpless bystander witnessing the depth of Hermione's distress. He did the only thing he could think of. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he cried with her. As her heart broke for Harry, Draco's heart broke for her. For a moment, the only noise in the room was their combined sounds of sorrow. But as with all storms, Hermione's gradually played out, leaving her feeling drained and lifeless. Draco gently rocked the love of his life as both of them came to terms with a world without Harry Potter in it.

The Boy Who Lived was no more. The Man Who Died would forever after take his place.

"Let's go, love," Draco whispered thickly. "We're just torturing ourselves."

"No…..I can't…...I've got to do this. I've got to see," she insisted. Moving away a bit from Draco, she pulled the sheet further down Harry's body. She got as far as his waist before she swooned. Hermione's knees buckled, and she would have fallen to the floor had not Draco caught her. He felt like crumbling himself. Vicious lightning bolt-shaped scars were scattered all across Harry's torso, but were concentrated mostly on his chest, near his heart. It was if someone, or many someones, had tried to gouge his heart right out of his chest. Draco was shocked. Although he knew Harry had died instantly after the first curse had hit him, the display of so many wounds spoke of a greater, more evil intent. A cold fury began to dry Draco's tears. In his entire life, he'd never seen such brutality. He never before beheld a body with that many hexes placed on it; not even when he was a death eater.

He pulled the plastic sheet back over Harry. He didn't want to see anymore. He'd seen enough.

Harry's death wasn't just the act of revenge on an enemy. Harry's body bore the evidence of mindless hate.

_But who? Who would hate him that much?_ he wondered.

* * *

 

When Draco and Hermione made it back to the Manor, James was playing with his Baboo and was overjoyed when he saw his mother in the doorway.

"Mummy! Guess what? Baboo say we cans spend the night wif her and Unca Dway-co!" he chirped, totally oblivious to his mother's condition.

Trying to rouse for her son's sake, Hermione said, "I know….that'll be fun, won't it?"

"Uh-huh. Baboo says I cans have all the bubbles I wants in my bath. And Skippy says she'll turns my soap into a fishy, Mummy!" he crowed.

"Can I come, too? It's been a long time since Skippy turned a bar of soap into a fish for me," joked Draco, trying to keep the conversation light. But it took an immediate downward spiral when James shook his head and said, "No….my daddy bathes wif me, Unca Dway-co." Turning to look at his mother, he asked, "When's Daddy coming, Mummy? I want to show him my fishy." James paused when he saw his mother's face crumple in pain. "Mummy…..? Don't cwy, Mummy!" he said, his own lips beginning to quiver at seeing his mother in distress.

But Hermione was made of sterner stuff when it came to her son. She might dissolve into a puddle of tears when alone with Draco, but she was not going to let James down. Pulling from a reservoir of strength that only surfaced when her child had need of it, she sat down, patted her lap and said, "Come here, Darling. Mummy wants to talk to you."

James put his finger in his mouth. "Am I….in twouble, Mummy?"

'No….of course not, Sweetheart. Mummy just needs you to listen to her for a little bit."

"Would you like us to leave, dear?" Narcissa asked, her eyes filled with compassion.

"No...please stay. We might need you….later."

Gathering James into her arms, Hermione said, "James…..do you remember the story about the Deathly Hallows?"

"You means…. the one abouts the wand and cape and wock?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Uh-huh, I wemembuhs it. I like the pictures in that sto-wee, Mummy. Ah we going to weads it tonite?"

Hermione swallowed; she paused, dreading what was coming. She was about to break her son's heart; she already felt devastated and the tiny part of her that wasn't consumed by sorrow was outraged that she had to do it. Sensing her tumultuous feelings, Draco placed his warm hand on her shoulder. Hermione closed her eyes; she could sense him willing his calm to flow into her. In that moment, she could feel how powerful Draco's magic was. She latched onto it and felt buoyed by its strength.

"James….do you remember the bit at the end when Death came as an old friend and took the man to Heaven?"

The little boy nodded. Reaching for his mother's hand, he asked, "Why you's sad, Mummy?"

Hermione's bottom lip trembled. She willed the tears to stay in her eyes. "Because….Death came as an old friend for Daddy today and took him to Heaven."

For a moment the little boy sat there, not comprehending. Then a big fat tear slowly made its way down his cheek. "My Daddy's…...in Heaven?"

Hermione sniffed, trying desperately not to cry. "Yes."

James felt no such restraint. He began to sob openly, his cries turning to little wails of anguish at the thought of his beloved Daddy leaving them.

"No...no... _no_! Make him come back, Mummy!" he bawled.

"Oh, Darling….I wish I could. I would do _anything_ to get Daddy back," she cried as she rocked him much in the same way as Draco had rocked her earlier that afternoon. All during James' fit of tears, she held him and crooned in his ear until spent from struggling against the horrible truth, he fell asleep.

"Does the Miss wish for Skippy to take the young one to bed?" asked the little elf who was dressed in a clean and pressed flour sack. She had come in to take James to his bath when she'd stumbled upon the unhappy scene.

"Yes, thank you, Skippy, that is very considerate of you," said Narcissa. She could tell Hermione was bone-tired from the stress of the day. Snapping her fingers, she summoned another elf to bring a nice hot broth for Hermione to eat.

"I...I can't. I can't bear the thought of food now…," Hermione began to say before Narcissa cut her off.

"My dear….please don't think me forward, but you have a son that is going to need his mother. I know food is the last thing on your mind, but you _must_ eat to keep up your strength. Have you had anything today?"

"I had some eggs and fruit this morning. Before….."

"Then it's past time for another meal. Draco….will you help her?" Narcissa looked pointedly at her son. She and Draco were very fluent in eye communication. They'd had to be when Voldemort lived in the manor. Right then she was telling him that Hermione was his responsibility.

_If only that was true_ , he thought.

Still, he did what he could. Hermione seemed to be having a hard time commanding her fingers to do basic tasks, so he crumbled up some crackers into her broth. She didn't seem to be able to hold onto the spoon, either; after the few attempts to feed herself had ended up on her shirt, Draco took over. During the entire meal, his eyes didn't leave Hermione's as she partook of the simple food. He patiently fed her, one spoonful at a time, pausing periodically to clean her chin of soup and the occasional tear. Draco hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast himself, but his own needs had taken a backseat in the face of Hermione's bereavement. When she was almost done, she told him she was thirsty. Nodding, he went to get her something to drink and while he was filling her glass, put a few drops of dreamless sleep into the water. The liquid shone with the purple characteristics of the potion. If Hermione saw it, she didn't mention it.

When she was done, Narcissa said, "Draco, why don't you take Hermione to the guest room next to your chambers? That way, if she needs anything during the night, you'll hear her."

"What about James?" Hermione asked. "I'll need to be close to him tonight."

"You are, dear. His room is right across the hallway from yours and Draco's. I've also asked Skippy to check on him throughout the night. I think she thinks of James as one of her own," she said in an attempt to make the young widow smile.

She didn't succeed, but Hermione thanked her anyway. "Mrs. Malfoy," she said, "I appreciate you allowing us to stay here for the night."

"Oh, my girl," Narcissa said as she took one of Hermione's hands. Her eyes glittered suspiciously, but her voice was steady when she said, "We've been friends far too long for you to call me Mrs. Malfoy. It's Narcissa from now on. Or Cissy, if you prefer. And I want you to consider this home as yours for as long as you need it. Understood?"

"Thank you. I...I don't want to be in our flat right now. I don't think I could bear it. Also…..with it being right there in London, and the press knowing….I don't want to have to deal with them."

"Good. Then it's all sorted. You'll stay here in Wiltshire. We have strong wards around the property. No reporter will bother you. It'll give you time to heal."

Seeing the poor girl was ready to drop, Narcissa gave her a hug, then whispered to Draco, "Get her to bed, Son. She's half dead on her feet."

Nodding, he took Hermione's hand and began to lead her upstairs, but halfway there, she did give out, whether from fatigue or the potion he spiked her water with, he wasn't sure. Picking her up bridal-style, Draco carried her the rest of the way to her room. Then he called for one of the elves to see to Hermione to ready her for bed. Going into his room, he threw himself on top of his mattress; being exhausted himself by all the strong emotions of the day, Draco was asleep before he could get out of his clothes.

Downstairs, Narcissa poured herself a glass of sherry before she made her way to her bedroom. She knew intuitively that her family had grown that day. Now was not the time to talk of such things; she would have to be patient…..but being a pragmatic sort, she knew life would eventually recover from this tragedy. When it did, she wanted everything to be ready. She was tired of seeing Draco lonely. And poor Hermione. Her loneliness was just starting. Well, she could do something about that. Narcissa would make sure Draco and Hermione would not needlessly suffer.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Harry's funeral had been on the day when the first Quidditch game of the season at Hogwarts was traditionally played. He was buried near his parents' graves at Godric's Hollow. Many came to pay their respects. Draco noted, somewhat surprised but immensely pleased, that more of his former house showed up than Gryffindor's. Whatever else their faults, Slytherins were devoted friends. Whether their attendance had to do with their commitment to him or their friendship with the Potters, Draco didn't know and didn't particularly care. That they were there to honor Harry was what was important to him.

Hermione surprised everyone when she asked Minerva McGonagall to give the eulogy instead of the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Draco wholeheartedly approved the decision. He distrusted the government; although his father had had no room to talk, he'd warned Draco to never rely on those whose convictions blew with the prevailing winds. Draco had seen firsthand how the ministry treated Harry after Lucius' generous donation to the minister's re-election campaign. He had heard about Percy Weasley's defection from his family when offered a raise. Undeserving git...no loyalty at all, just like the rest of his kin. Thank goodness none of them had showed up for the funeral. At least they'd not pretended to mourn Harry. Draco was relieved. The last thing Hermione needed was redheads littering the cemetery.

Minerva's words had been tender and warmhearted. At times, amusing. She didn't glorify Harry as a saint; rather she painted a truer portrait of the young man. She talked about his prowess at Quidditch; then she switched and reminisced over the instances she'd had to correct him over some transfiguring gone wrong. Those in attendance chuckled when she told them of the time Harry botched a lesson. He'd mispronounced the incantation and instead of the white onion becoming a china plate, it had burst forth into an albino pygmy puff with a bad case of gas.

Then her stories changed to more tender ones. Those that honored the relationship between Harry and his future wife. He and Hermione, when they'd battled the troll in the girl's bathroom. When Hermione had helped Harry study for the Triwizard tournament. When she'd obliviated her parents so she could go with him to find and destroy Voldemort's horcruxes.

Minerva paused and spoke to Hermione directly. "I'm so glad circumstances brought the two of you together. You enriched his life. Harry experienced true love because of you. I'm…..proud of you both and so happy he gave you a son to help remember him by."

Hermione hugged James while her tears flowed listening to her favorite professor's words.

"And you….Mr. Malfoy," Minerva continued, moving her gaze to Draco, "you've overcome so much and shown your true mettle. I know Harry was honored to count you as his best friend."

Draco looked up, surprised at her words. Nodding her head, she said, "Yes…..Harry told me. He would come to visit from time to time, you know, and he never failed to talk about the ones he loved. Including you."

Minerva watched as Hermione sought Draco's hand. She paused, marveling at the sight. If anyone had told her years ago that Draco Malfoy would be the one Hermione Granger would turn to in time of need, she would have thought them crazy. Yet, there it was. She wished Albus had lived to see it. It gave the older witch confidence for the future.

She continued to watch the pair as they made their way over to Harry's coffin for one last viewing before the releasing. Hermione leaned over to give her dead husband a kiss on the cheek and held James while he did the same. Draco put his hand on Harry's head, an affectionate gesture that had become common to them both when Harry had been alive.

Bending low, he whispered, "I've done what you asked. And I'll continue to keep my promise, Harry."

Then he pulled out from his coat pocket the snitch Harry had caught in his first game on that very day so many years ago and put it into his dead friend's hands. Draco's heart ached when the snitch no longer fluttered in recognition at Harry's touch. Apparently, the little golden orb needed a heartbeat, the rush of blood, the intake of breath to recognize a being. It had none of those here. Flesh memory only worked on living tissue.

A touch on his arm reminded Draco it was time for the unbinding ceremony. The three who loved Harry best moved back to let magic take its place. Minerva walked over to where the coffin stood. She gazed down, smiling sadly at Harry's still face, a lone tear making its way down her weathered cheek.

"Goodbye, Potter," she murmured affectionately. "It was good to see you one last time."

Then raising her hands, the aged professor called forth the Powers. "May the name of Harry James Potter be remembered."

Those present answered, "So mote it be."

_A sudden strong breeze whipped through the graveyard._

"May his many acts of valor henceforth inspire our own."

"So mote it be."

_A ray of sunshine broke through the autumn gloom to fall across the fallen wizard._

"And may the love he bore be forever felt in those who knew him best."

"So mote it be."

_A heavy presence filled the air; anticipations rose. Then a lone woodlark began to twitter and chirp, its piercing, sweet birdsong chasing away the silence._

It was time. With a flick of her wand, Minerva uttered, _"_ _Relashio."_

Hermione knew what was coming, but still gasped when she saw a vortex of what looked like sparkling diamonds rise up from Harry's body. Minerva had released Harry's magic from the lifeless vessel that could no longer serve it. Now it would rise free again. Draco swallowed hard, not caring if others saw him emotional at witnessing the beautiful manifestation of Harry's essence. It rushed out, powerful yet friendly. It made its way first to Hermione. As it swirled around her, Draco could see the glimmering diamonds take on the haunting, wistful color of Heliotrope, little purple and pinkish glints twinkling spontaneously to form what looked like a glittering cloud around his beloved. A concentration of sparkles could be seen hovering around her mouth. Draco heard Hermione sigh in bliss; her eyes had closed and she smiled as if feeling the touch of one last kiss. Then Harry's magic released its hold on her, little streams of shining air caressing her hair as if reluctant to let go before it moved on to their son.

With James, Harry's magic became the color and smell of crisp green apples, his son's favorite fruit. His magic began to spiral so fast around the little boy, James' curls were flattened against his forehead. But rather than being frightened of the motion, James began to giggle. It was the first time he'd laughed since being told of Harry's death. Tears came to Draco's eyes knowing Harry was leaving his family with as much love and joy as was possible.

He held his breath when he realized he was next. Harry's magic paused before it began to circle around him. Draco's robes billowed from the strength of it. A whiff of salty sea air filled his senses, and an inexplicable knowing that all would be well settled deep in his heart.

Afterwards, the wind about him moved back to just above the coffin; then with a mighty surge, Harry's magic revealed its full power, momentarily blinding those in attendance. It shot upward toward the clouds to be seen and felt no more.

For a moment afterward, everyone sat as if in a daze. Slowly, they began to rouse.

Minerva nodded to the workers waiting at the coffin. With their wands they sealed the coffin, levitated it to right above the grave, then gently lowered it into the ground to be covered with fresh-turned dirt.

"Deep peace of the Quiet Earth to you. Deep peace of the Shining Stars to you," Minerva said in benediction. "Thank you for coming. This service is now concluded."

Draco put his arm around Hermione. "I just saw Mother leave…..would you like to go now, or is there anyone you would like to speak to?"

"The others are coming, right?"

"Yes, Pansy said they would follow shortly."

She laid her head against Draco's shoulder. "Then let's go."

With a twist, Draco apparated the three of them back to Wiltshire.

Neither he nor Hermione had seen the flash of red stepping out from behind one of the larger tombstones.

Ron Weasley had lied to his family about where he was headed when he left them that afternoon. Instead of visiting the pub at Ottery St. Catchpole, he'd come to witness the farewell of his onetime best friend. Ron had thought himself hidden from all there, but Harry's magic had detected him. During the time the mourners were seeing nothing but spots from the brilliance of Harry's light, Ron saw shimmers of deep purple that left behind the fragrance of hyacinths.

Ron's face crumpled in guilt and remorse. He could no more stop his tears than he could stop his heart from beating. He knew what that color and smell meant. The declaration had been cast and affirmed. Those who knew Harry best would forever after feel his love. Even those who had turned their backs on it.

It was the worst sort of punishment.

* * *

 

_Months later…._

Time was funny, thought Hermione. It walked in its steady linear way. Sixty seconds always made up one minute; sixty minutes always made up one hour. So how then could time seem to drag at one moment and at other times fly by? The days right after Harry's funeral were the longest Hermione had ever experienced in her life. Especially the nights. The dark seemed to delight in torturing her with memories of her husband. Those were the nights Draco would come. He would quietly open her bedroom door to find her on the floor, face down, crying her heart out. He never scolded her for being weak. He would lift her up off the ground and put her back to bed as if she was a child who needed comfort after a nightmare. Which in a way, she was. Then he would sit beside her until she would go back to sleep. Except…..for one time when, after a particularly brutal dream that had Voldemort slowly torturing Harry, she'd clung tightly to Draco's neck and begged him to sleep with her. Draco hadn't reacted the way she thought he would. He'd cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing it.

"Are you sure?" He suddenly seemed breathless. Although hesitant, a cautious hope shined in his eyes. "You want….. _that_?"

"Please Draco," she begged, too caught up in the after-effects of her nightmare to notice anything else. "I…..I….every time I close my eyes I see it happening. I'm...scared to be alone."

"Oh…..."

He gave her an apologetic half-smile, which she didn't understand, but didn't have the presence of mind to wonder about. He pulled back the covers and got in. Spooning her from behind, he wrapped her in his arms. Hermione sighed. It was just what she needed. Feeling protected and safe, she'd immediately gone back to sleep. When she woke up the next morning from the best sleep she'd had since Harry died, she'd expected Draco to be beside her. But he wasn't. That was the last time he'd joined her in bed, although he would still sit with her if she asked. Which she tried very hard not to do from then on.

Christmas that year was a struggle. Thankfully, Narcissa opted not to have her annual yuletide party. On Christmas eve, they'd had a private dinner, inviting only their closest friends. Theo came, loaded with Christmas crackers to share with James, Pansy and Neville of course, were there and Luna with Blaise, who was still recuperating from his brush with death, had come back from Italy just to be with them. The latter couple was expecting their first child. Draco watched the two, secretly jealous. He kept looking back and forth between them and Hermione. Would he ever have a similiar Christmas with her when he would get to see her round and lovely with his child? Right then and there, he made himself a resolution. He'd do whatever it took to win her love. Harry's magic had convinced him a happy future could be had. And by Merlin, he _would_ have it.

Hermione made a resolution for herself at New Year's. She quit her job at the Ministry. She'd only been working part-time anyway since the birth of James and didn't have the heart to face the condolences of those who didn't mean them. Draco encouraged her to take a break from it all and to stay at the Manor while she figured it out. That was seven months ago. Seven months, and she still was at the Manor. She'd given up the lease on her and Harry's flat and had moved what she didn't need to Grimmauld Place. The rest she had brought back with her to the Manor. The wizarding gossip grapevine had always wondered why she and Harry had not lived in Sirius' family home; now, they were abuzz with why she had moved herself and her son to Wiltshire. Some of the reports that came out were ridiculous. There wasn't a week that went by where some columnist wasn't suggesting that the reason Hermione had fled to Wiltshire was to stay hidden from the public while she carried the love child of Draco Malfoy. Or that she was a shrewd, calculating black widow who had caught her next victim in much the same tradition as Blaise's sensational mother. But Hermione had gotten to the point where she honestly didn't care what the gossips thought. The Malfoy property was beautiful. Its serenity was soothing. Besides, James loved it there. He loved the gardens, he loved the woods, he loved the fish pond….he especially loved the peacocks that roamed about. Sometimes he would try to chase them, giving Hermione a much needed laugh before she would call out for him to stop. Sometimes they would let him feed them.

Then there was Narcissa. The older witch had become part mother, part girlfriend to the lonely widow. She would often take Hermione shopping just to get her out of the house. Often it would be to exotic locales. One time, Narcissa had gotten a portkey to Tel Aviv. When Hermione wondered aloud if the area was safe, Narcissa brushed off her concerns and assured her the wizarding section was as peaceful and safe as Diagon Alley. After that, they had roamed the streets of the old city of Jaffa. Like young girls, they'd gone through the market, sampling the different street vendor's food, trying on scarves and purchasing trinkets before heading out to walk at sunset along the beach of the ancient seaport.

When she wasn't gadding about with Narcissa, Hermione was with Draco. Declaring to him she needed to do something to feel productive, he invited her to help him in his shop. During the cold winter months Hermione stayed busy, often finding herself over a cauldron, counting her stirs or over at the table, concentrating on the precise slicing of certain ingredients. Those were the times when she and Draco would have long conversations. No topic was off-limits. Deep long discussions on philosophy and faith or conversely, silly little chats involving favorite puns. His opinion on whether muggles really had been to the moon. Her fear of ants. How he despised milk. When warmer weather once again graced England, they talked of other things. Draco confessing he'd never learned to swim; Hermione admitting she had been chosen as May Queen once; it had been the year before she'd found out she was a witch.

On one very warm day, they'd taken a break from their work and had gone outside, seeking a respite from standing over steaming cauldrons all day. Together, they sat on the stoop overlooking the small back yard behind Draco's shop.

"I love this time of the year," he confessed.

She bumped his shoulder in a playful way. "Why is that?"

Draco smiled, as if recalling a treasured secret. "Because…..everything is alive. Everywhere one looks, there's growth. Or at least, the potential for it."

Gazing admiringly at the blooming jasmine that was growing along the wall of a nearby store, Hermione admitted to her love of gardening and of getting her hands in dirt. She glanced over to see Draco looking at her thoughtfully. She was just about to ask him what was on his mind when he surprised her by pulling her out into the yard. Once there, he made a hole in the ground with his wand.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Patience, love. You'll see."

Kneeling down, he tugged at her until she was down on her knees beside him. Then he placed her hands in the hole and gently patted the loose dirt over her hands.

Giving her a look that begged for understanding, he said, "There. Now both of us can have what we want."

She looked down at her buried hands. "Have you lost the plot? What is this about?"

"Can't you guess?"

She thought for a moment, but came up clueless. Shaking her head, she said, "Nope. Sorry."

Draco's eyes shined like silver pools in the daylight. She couldn't decide if it made him look like an angel or a madman.

But all he said was, "You love to garden. I love to see things grow."

Hermione laughed. "So…..you decided to plant _me_?"

His expression changed to one of raw yearning. "Yes. I've planted myself a Hermione tree. I've been caring for it in the hopes that one day it might bear fruit."

Hermione's heart, still and dormant since Harry died, began to beat madly at that moment. She knew Draco's words had a deeper meaning. Right then it suddenly occurred to her that a lot of Draco's words and actions had had deeper meanings. She felt a strange tingling, but it was not unwelcome. Actually, it felt wonderful. It was as if a tight band that had been restricting her heart had snapped. Feeling was returning to all her numb places.

She knew she had to ask. "What kind of fruit do you want your tree to bear?"

Draco seemed surprised at the question. Then the look in his eyes turned to something deeper. Infinitely warmer. As if he'd suddenly let down a barrier Hermione hadn't known was there. Smoothing her hair with his palm, he whispered, "That will be up to my little tree, won't it?"

Hermione gulped. She watched, trembling, as his eyes looked down to her mouth.

_Is he thinking of kissing me?_

Did she want him to kiss her? She didn't know. All she knew was that the closer he moved toward her, the harder her heart beat. She could hear his heavy breathing, as if his heart was racing, too. His breath smelled of cinnamon and cloves. Hermione instinctively lifted her face to his. Just when his lips had reached their goal, the back door to the shop opened. Theo was back from playing babysitter.

"Oi! Just how long am I supposed to keep the midget?" he called out.

Draco reluctantly raised his head from hers. His guard was down; Hermione's breath caught at the depth of feeling plainly showing on his face. It made shivers run all the way down her spine.

"Uh-oh…...did I interrupt something?" their friend grinned mischievously.

Draco cupped Hermione's cheek and kissed it, his mouth lingering on her soft skin.

"We are not finished here," he promised.

Hermione nodded. "Later."

He smiled tenderly at her. "Later."

"It's about time you made a move," Theo said as Draco walked up to him. "I swear, you're slower than a Hogwarts' broom."

"You're such a prat, Theodore," Draco huffed. "And don't call our James a midget."

" _Ooh…._ I know I'm in trouble when you use my big boy name," Theo teased.

Hermione sat there transfixed. _What just happened?_ The way Draco had looked at her…..the way he'd touched her as if she was the most precious thing in his world…..their barely-begun kiss….and right then, he'd called James _his_. Hermione watched him as he thumped his friend good-naturedly on the head before holding out his arms for her son. James jumped up in them, hugging Draco the way he used to hug Harry when he'd come home from an assignment. Hermione's eyes welled up with tears.

Was she ready for this?

She loved Harry. She always would.

But in that part of her heart where she'd already begun to heal, a name kept being whispered, a repeating echo playing in her mind.

Draco.

She knew she would eventually have to listen. Then she looked down to see her hands still buried in the soil.

_Let's see how this little tree grows._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

* * *

 

 

 

Draco and Hermione endured a lot of teasing and eyebrow wriggling from Theo before he said his goodbyes with a promise to James to carry him to Honeydukes soon.

"We won't ask Mummy and Uncle Draco to go with us, since they're getting their sugar from other sources."

That comment went completely over James' head, but Hermione rolled her eyes at her incorrigible friend while Draco started pushing him toward the door.

"You've worn out your welcome. Go home."

"Bye James! Bye, you lovebirds…..don't do anything I wouldn't do!" he said with a wink.

"Tell me again why we love him?" Draco groaned once he had closed the door behind him. Hermione chuckled.

"Cuz he gives me all of Buhdee's Botz beans!" chortled James, thinking Draco had been talking to him.

"Yes, and that's another reason why Theo is so _special_ , isn't it? Draco, remind me to let him clean up the sick the next time James throws up the poop-flavored ones."

Draco and Hermione made short work of cleaning up their workspace, then secured the potions still simmering in their cauldrons. Locking the front door, they left together with James and apparated to the manor. Hermione was a bundle of nervous energy. She kept expecting Draco to do something. Just what, she wasn't sure, but the butterflies in her stomach indicated her suspense. The possibilities were endless. So she waited, anticipation coiling tightly, ready to spring forth into action. At dinner, everything seemed normal. Afterwards, Draco played with James as was his custom and discussed an upcoming holiday to Greece with his mother. When he sat down beside Hermione after the tenth game of hide and go seek, he acted as if nothing had happened between them. Hermione felt strangely disappointed and was tempted to wonder if that afternoon had just been a crazy daydream. She probably would have believed that if it hadn't been for all the dirt she'd had to clean from under her nails.

Later, after James had been given his bath, Draco joined Hermione as she was tucking him in bed.

"Good night, my little monkey," he said as he gave James a kiss on the forehead.

"Unca Dway-co…...are you goings to be my new daddy?" the little boy had asked sleepily.

Hermione startled. "What James?"

He turned his green eyes, so very much like his father's, to gaze at his mother. "Unca Theo said so. Said…," he paused to let a big yawn out, "he could be my bestest Unca now, since Dway-co would be my new daddy."

Hermione blushed scarlet. Draco spoke up. "Your daddy will always be your daddy, James," he assured him as he lovingly brushed the curls from the little boy's forehead.

"But…...my daddy's in heaven now. I don't gets to see him anymore."

It pained Draco to see James' sad face. "I'm so sorry your daddy's not here, Jamie. I know it hurts. I lost my daddy, too."

Lucius' body had finally succumbed to an illness and he had died earlier that spring. Although he had, for all intents and purposes, been gone since the dementors had taken his soul all those years ago, Draco still felt the loss as if it was fresh. Death had finally come for the unrepentant death eater. Though Draco doubted very much that it had met him as a friend.

"Don't…..don't you want to be my new daddy, Unca Dway-co?" James' bottom lip was trembling.

Draco couldn't take that. He pulled James up into his arms and gave him a tight hug. Hoping Hermione wouldn't mind what he was about to say, he put a gentle kiss on the boy's head and whispered, "I want it more than anything, James."

Hermione's breath caught and she barely held back a gasp. Although Draco was hugging James, he was gazing at her and the look in his eyes was one she'd never forget. Longing. Hope. Love.

She didn't interrupt the two before her. She merely kissed her son goodnight and whispered in Draco's ear that she would be waiting for him in the library when he was finished with James.

She'd only been there a minute or two before the door opened. Draco walked in with a determined expression on his face.

"We need to talk….." was all Hermione managed to get out before Draco pulled her into his arms.

"Please let me do this," he pleaded, whispering in her ear, although he had no intention of waiting for permission. Lowering his head, he took up where he'd left off that afternoon and captured her mouth with his. Hermione gasped and instinctively grabbed his shoulders. He began to kiss her as if he'd never have another chance. Draco's dam had finally broken and he could no longer hold back the torrent of desire he had for the witch in his arms. Moving one hand to cradle the back of her head, he held her steady as he devoured her mouth, kissing her again and again. Hungrily. Desperately.

Hermione's felt her heart was going to beat out of her chest. This. _This_ was what she'd been waiting for. Draco was making her feel things she'd thought had died with Harry. She began to reciprocate his kisses, letting the sensations of his soft lips, his warm skin, his panted breaths roll over her with overwhelming delight. The sudden ache that had come upon her for this man was startling. It was all-encompassing.

"'Mione…." he moaned, when they finally came up for air.

Hermione was gasping and holding on for dear life. Without realizing she had done so, her fingers had woven through his hair and left trails in it.

"Wha…...what was….. _that_?" were her first coherent words. She wasn't sure if she was asking herself or Draco the question.

Draco moved his hands to cup her cheeks. Looking into his eyes, she realized the reserve, that impenetrable wall he had always kept up, had been forever destroyed. She saw the real man now. The Draco looking at her was mesmerizing in his intensity.

"I'll tell you what that was," he said as he continued to hold her gaze. "That was me giving you fair warning. I'm coming for you. I'm going to court you, Hermione Potter."

Hermione couldn't look away. Draco had ensnared her completely.

"I plan to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be _mine_."

Then he kissed her again. This one was different. It was soft and slow and adoring.

"You and James are _everything_ to me," he murmured against her mouth before he loosened his hold. Giving her one more long, loving look, he said, "Sleep well, love." With that, he left her to herself in the library.

Hermione stood there for a moment, completely astonished, yet wonderfully exhilarated.

An explosion of color had burst upon the grey, monochromatic canvas of her life.

It was exquisite.

* * *

 

The next several weeks were some of the most confusing, bewildering, yet thrilling weeks of Hermione's life. Being courted by Draco was totally different than what it had been with Harry; mainly because with Harry, there hadn't been any courting at all. It had been a dependency, a slow and steady falling. A mutual need and affection that grew to love.

Draco wooed. He made her feel like he was a courtly suitor seeking her hand. Most mornings he was up before she was. Beside her place at the breakfast table, flowers began to appear. Beautiful red roses, intoxicating gardenias, merry-looking daisies; every flower that bloomed at the manor eventually made its way to her. Sometimes there would be a note that accompanied his offering. That morning, Hermione sat down to a beautiful hand-tied bouquet of yellow irises. Beside them was a card. On it was written, _"What you seek is seeking you." - Rumi_

Hermione blushed. She'd never been sought after by anyone before, except for that dreadful Cormac McLaggen, and that was an experience she'd just as soon forget. A moment later, Draco strolled in and sat across from her at the table. She noticed he hadn't shaved that morning. He hadn't yesterday, either. Deciding to tease him a bit, she grinned as she poured his cup of tea. "Lost your razor?"

He held his cup steady so the scalding liquid wouldn't splash against her hand. "I thought I'd try something different."

"Oh?"

He gave her a small smile. "I thought I'd go for something that would make me look less like a little boy."

Hermione snorted. Just the other day she'd seen him come into the house, shirtless and sweaty after helping Neville build an addition to his greenhouse. The sight that met her eyes had almost caused her to miss her step going down the stairs.

"That's a needless worry. As if you could be mistaken for anything other than a man. And what a man..."

Draco's brows rose as his silver eyes darkened to grey; a moment later, a playful smirk tugged at his mouth. Hermione blushed to her roots. Good heavens, had she really said that out loud? Was the filter connecting her thoughts to her mouth broken? "Uh….well…..…"

"Did you like your flowers?" he asked softly. Putting his teacup down, he took her hand. "Mother will probably take me to task for cutting her irises, but I wanted you to have them. You know their meaning, don't you?"

Her eyes never left his when she nodded. Yes, she knew. Passion.

Narcissa came in then with James. He was bouncing up and down with joy. "I'm gonna see the flying horseys today, Mummy!" he crowed. "Baboo's gonna take me!"

Hermione's eyes shined in happiness at seeing James so excited. "That's wonderful, Darling! But Mummy wants you to eat a good breakfast first."

Hermione began to plate James' food when Draco took it from her hand. She looked at him questioningly until he began to cut up James' sausages for him. Just that simple act of thoughtfulness, of sharing responsibility touched her heart.

"Are you and Pansy still going shopping?" Narcissa's question cut through her thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh….yes. I don't think she would let me get out of it. She said she was tired of seeing me wear the same sundress and said _I absolutely had to have something new to wear to their party_." Pansy and Neville were having a luncheon the next week. Pansy said it was to celebrate their strawberries coming in, but Hermione knew better. She knew it would be when they would announce their pregnancy.

Draco chuckled. "That sounds like Pansy. Heaven forbid a woman wearing a dress more than once."

"What colah dwess ah you getting Mummy?"

Hermione turned her attention to her son.

"What color would you like me to get, James?"

The little tot stopped eating his eggs. Crinkling his face adorably, he said, "I don'ts know. Let me fink."

Hermione grinned. Looking up, she saw Draco wink at her. "I think Mummy looks beautiful in any color. But I like her best in blue."

James nodded. "Me, too! I likes blue, too Mummy!"

"Well then, I guess my dress will have to be blue then, won't it?"

"Uh-huh. Cuz me and Unca Dway-co likes that colah best."

Hermione once again looked at Draco. He said nothing, but the pull of his gaze drew her in. Unable to resist, she said, "Then it's sorted. I've got to keep my men happy, don't I?"

Draco's eyes widened. Then they deepened to an emotion so full, so tender, Hermione was barely able to breathe. Getting up from his chair, Draco walked over to where she was sitting. Bending down, he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

"Have fun with Pansy today, love," he whispered. With his forefinger he traced her cheek. "I'll miss you while you're gone." Then giving his mother a nod and ruffling James' hair, he said aloud, "I'll be heading to the shop now," before he walked over to the fireplace and flooed into town.

Forgetting all about Narcissa's presence in the room, Hermione looked down at her plate, toying with her food while smiling absently at her toast. Narcissa watched as the varying emotions played over the younger witch's face. She said nothing, but her heart was full at seeing the deepening of Draco's and Hermione's relationship.

 _Even if it is costing me my prized flowers_ , she thought with a wry grin. She was proud of her son. His giving of bouquets as a daily offering was a sweet, gentlemanly gesture that spoke of respect. It was the one good thing Lucius had taught him. A real man cherishes his wife. She knew it was only a matter of time before Draco proposed. Narcissa took a bite of her meat as she pondered over their inevitable marriage. She didn't know why he waited; she supposed Draco wanted to be sure Hermione was ready. Surely he didn't think she'd refuse. Hermione's feelings for her son were all too apparent. Her bashful smiles were sweet and adoring.

Feeling a sudden jerk, she looked down to see that James, in his attempt to get more jam, had tried to pull the pot of cherry preserves closer to where he could reach it by yanking on the table cloth. He seemed to be the only one unaffected by the undercurrents at play.

As Narcissa straightened back the cloth, he asked, "Baboo….puweeaz..cans I have more jam? I likes it. It's sweet."

Grinning at the little scamp, Narcissa complied with the request. It seemed everyone was indulging their sweet tooth that morning, one way or another. Getting a spoonful of the sticky treat for herself, she spread it on her toast. Might as well join them.

* * *

 

Pansy smirked at the witch standing in front of the glass. "Trying on _another_ blue one? Gee…...I wonder why." She was sitting on a lounge watching Hermione as she modeled her selections.

Looking back at her friend through the mirror, Hermione playfully stuck her tongue out. "James and Draco told me they like me in blue. So there."

"James also liked you in that ridiculous pink and lime jumper you wore for his birthday, so forgive me when I say his opinion doesn't count for much. This is for Draco, isn't it?"

Hermione looked down at her bare feet. She tried her best not to blush, but it was a skill that had always eluded her grasp. With a small voice, she said, "Well….what if it is? Would that be so bad, Pansy?"

The brunette grinned that maddening grin that always made Hermione feel like she'd been caught doing something naughty.

"Dost thou, my ear, deceive me? Is Hermione Potter admitting she likes Draco Malfoy?" Pretending to be shocked, Pansy began to fan herself. "Oh mercy me, I do declare I'm about to have the vapors. Somebody fetch me the smelling salts."

Hermione began to laugh. Trust Pansy to switch from King James English to Margaret Mitchell in the blink of an eye. "Well, fiddle-dee-dee, Scarlett, I'm afraid I left my salts at home."

Pansy huffed. "Some friend you are. You'd let me faint."

"I don't think you're in any danger," Hermione deadpanned. Shaking her head, she murmured, "I don't know why I ever let you watch Gone With The Wind. What I was thinking?"

Suddenly serious, Pansy said, "I know why you did. And I love you for it, 'Mione."

Hermione had shared with her the story of another strong-spirited girl who had been raised in privilege, surrounded by oppressive ideology and thrust into a war she'd never wanted. She might have ended up as calculating and plotting as that heroine, always pining for the wrong man, it it hadn't been for the Gryffindors in her life. Especially the man she now had the joy of calling her husband.

Getting up, Pansy walked up to Hermione and gave her a hug. "My Dear…..I'm so happy for you. Even if you did steal my childhood Ashley from me."

Hermione smiled at her friend's joke. "The saleslady will be mad at you if you get your makeup on his dress."

"Not a possibility," Pansy said unconcernedly. "You're barefoot. I have my heels on. My face is nowhere near your shoulder. You're such a shrimp, Hermione."

"I am not!"

"You are, but don't worry. Draco loves it. He can put you in his pocket and carry you everywhere."

"Just like Thumbelina, I guess."

"Who?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nevermind. Muggle fairy tale. It doesn't matter."

"I'll tell you what matters," Pansy looked the pretty widow in the eye. "You giving Draco a chance. And it's about time, too. He's loved you forever."

Hermione looked up sharply. "What?"

Pansy blushed. She hadn't meant to say that. "Crap…...I wasn't supposed to tell. But….yes," Pansy said slowly while watching Hermione carefully, "Draco's loved you for years."

Hermione's mouth gaped open. She knew he had feelings for her, but she'd assumed they'd grown, just as hers had since Harry's death. But if what Pansy said was true…

"How many years are we talking about, Pansy?"

"Hermione…..this shouldn't change anything…."

"How _many_?"

Pansy let out a long-suffering sigh. "Since sometime during our sixth year. He loved you long before Harry did."

Hermione stood there for a second. Then she made her way over to the lounge.

 _Better to sit down than fall down_ , she thought. Pansy followed her over and sat down beside her.

"Are you...are you okay?" she asked. "Please don't be upset with Draco. He's done nothing wrong."

"Why didn't he ever tell me?"

Pansy looked incredulous. "Seriously? You're actually asking me that question? And what was he supposed to say? Oh hey, Granger….I know I've been the bane of your existence, and I called you the M-word more times than I can remember, but can you believe it? In spite of everything, I've fallen in love with you. So what do you say to having a death eater as a boyfriend?"

But Hermione didn't hear her. Her mind was whirling with memories. The way Draco had cared for her when Harry died. His constant presence and care for her since then. His love and devotion to James. And going further back, his support for her and Harry. Introducing them to a new circle of friends. Helping Harry secure his job. Stopping the Weasleys from their persecutions. Helping her in the birth of James.

All this time.

Draco had loved her.

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears and her tender heart felt near to bursting. What had she ever done to deserve such devotion?

"What should I do?" she asked in a whisper.

Pansy took hold of her cold hands. "I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to love that man back, because I swear, nobody deserves it more than him. You're going to make him happier than he's ever been in his whole life. You're going to make yourself happy. You're going to give James a wonderful father and hopefully, a bunch of siblings. You're going to live the rest of your life with love." She let go of Hermione's hands to straighten the cushion between them. "You've had your sorrow; it's time now for joy."

Hermione wanted so badly to believe it. But a flash of the old pain hit her.

"But…..what about Harry? I loved him…..I….I still do. What would people think? Would they say I moved on too quickly? Would they start believing all the gossip?"

She looked cautiously at the brunette regarding her, half expecting Pansy to display her legendary impatience at her fears. But Pansy's countenance showed nothing but sympathy. She'd dealt for years with her own demons of guilt. She recognized them when she saw them.

"Sweetheart," she began carefully, "It doesn't matter what other people think. You know that."

"I know, Pansy….but it would kill me if they thought I'd never loved Harry."

Pansy took a deep breath. Taking Hermione's hand, she said, "This is not about Harry anymore, Hermione. He's dead. He's not coming back."

Her friend's eyes glittered with tears, but Pansy knew Hermione needed to hear the truth.

"Harry knew, Hermione."

For a moment, everything stopped in Hermione's mind.

_Harry knew?_

Pansy continued to talk. "...Draco said Harry had told him he'd known about his love for you ever since the night James was born. But it didn't change anything. Harry knew Draco would never betray him. He trusted Draco….he….he loved him, Hermione. Don't you see what that means?"

Hermione shook her head. She had never felt so confused before.

"It means…..Harry would have approved of you two being together."

For a moment Hermione sat still, trying to absorb it all. Then she said, "If only I knew that for sure."

"Well…..there is one way, you know."

Hermione looked up. "What way is that?"

Pansy bit her bottom lip in an unconscious imitation of her friend. "You could ask him."

"Who?"

"Harry."

Hermione frowned. "How could I do that?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "'Mione….are you a witch or not?"

Her friend's full meaning hit Hermione. She looked horrified. "Necromancy?"

Pansy made a face. "Do you think that little of me? Of course not. That's dark magic. No, I meant you could allow your magic to connect with the magic that was his. No magic dies; you know that. Surely there would be enough of his essence left in it for you to discern what his feelings would be."

"Pansy….I don't know…"

"Well, personally, I don't see the need in it, but if nothing else will convince you, then do it." Pansy leaned over and looked Hermione straight in the eyes. "'Mione…..you know I love you. I count you as one of my dearest friends. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. But to make Draco wait after he's already waited all these years just so you can waffle about, worrying about what other people are thinking or scared you're going to hurt the feelings of a man long dead…..well, that's just selfish, 'Mione."

Hermione swallowed. One of the main reasons she liked Pansy was because of the witch's blunt honesty. Now that it was turned on her, she found it a little hard to take, but she knew Pansy had spoken the truth.

Hermione sighed. "You know I hate it when you're right, but…...you are. I know you are."

Pansy smiled, her dimples making her already pretty face even more beautiful. "There's my brave Gryffindor." Changing the subject, she said, "So…...have you decided which dress you're going to buy?"

Hermione fingered the soft material of the dress she was wearing. "This one." Noting Pansy's approving nod, she said, "I think Draco will like it best."

* * *

 

When she got back to the manor, Hermione found James, Draco and Narcissa sitting in the courtyard in the gardens. James was playing with a charmed toy dragon while Narcissa was sharing with Draco the details of the party she wanted to give for later on that month.

When they saw Hermione standing behind them, Narcissa was just about to ask her to come join them when she abruptly said, "Narcissa, I need you to change your party plans."

The older witch looked quizzically at her. "Why?"

Hermione's gaze shifted to the blonde wizard sitting next to her. She spoke quickly before her courage failed her. "Because I want you to host an engagement party instead."

Narcissa gasped. Draco stood unsteadily on his feet. "Hermione?"

Hermione swallowed hard. Pansy had been right. Harry was no longer her life. The wizard before her was. She'd thought about it long and hard on her way back from London. If she was honest with herself, she would have to admit she'd been falling in love with Draco for a while now. She knew he loved her. Nothing was going to change that. So what was the point in waiting?

She walked over to the object of her desire. Clasping his hand with both of hers, she held them close to her heart and asked, "Draco…..will you marry me?"

* * *

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Draco and Hermione were married six weeks to the day from the time Hermione proposed. Narcissa was in a continual blur the whole time and had never been happier. She was in her element now, plotting and planning with the ordering of food, flowers and anything else she felt was necessary to have for a Malfoy wedding.  Draco and Hermione didn't much care and didn't much notice. They had eyes only for the other.

After Hermione had asked Draco to marry her, he'd been in shock for a moment. She watched as his deer in the headlights expression slowly changed. His eyes, always the most expressive part of him, softened. When he smiled, they crinkled adorably and shone with such love it made her breath catch in her throat. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her….slowly, worshipfully. All the while, his hands shook, whether from surprise or excitement, Hermione couldn't tell. When he raised his head, he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers, "Accio ring."

A moment later, a small velvet box came sailing toward them, flying out from the window of Draco's bedroom. Catching it with an ease Hermione had only seen in Seekers, Draco knelt before her. As he pulled her left hand toward him, he said, his joy plainly contradicting his pouty words, "You little thief. You stole my heart  _and_  my lines. Might as well take my last name, too."

He opened the box and slid what had to be an antique heirloom onto Hermione's finger. Once it was securely there, he kissed the finger where the ring now sat and said, "I've marked my little lamb now. She's forever mine."

Hermione didn't know why that statement touched her so, but it did. Happy tears began to trail down her face and she impulsively threw herself into his arms. "I love you," she whispered in his ear, her voice choking with emotion. "I really do."

Draco nuzzled the side of her face. "I love you. You don't know how much."

They'd forgotten they had an audience. James was watching them with wide-eyed confusion.

"Mummy…...Unca Dway _-_ co?"

Draco was the first one who noticed that James was getting upset. Letting go of Hermione, he held out his arms and said, "Come here, Jamie. Let me give you a hug, too."

That was something the little boy could understand. He freely ran to Draco, who picked him up and held him in one arm as he settled his other arm back around Hermione.

"Mummy…..ah you's sad?" James asked when he saw the tears on Hermione's face.

She laughed then, a free and joyous sound that made Draco's heart feel like it would burst. "No, my love….Mummy's not sad. Mummy is very, very  _happy_."

James looked at Draco. "Ah you's happy, too?"

He kissed James on his forehead. "Yes, I am. Happier than I've ever been in my whole life."

James paused; then he chuckled. It was a delicious gurgly, bubbly chuckle that made everyone smile. "Me, too!"

They all laughed then.

"Oh, my darlings…..I've so longed for this day," said Narcissa as she came up to give them each a congratulatory hug.

"That's the truth," smirked Draco. Whispering theatrically to Hermione, he said, "Just you wait. The party pixie has been released. No telling what sort of mischief she'll get up to now that she's got a wedding to plan."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, shaking her head in fond amusement at Draco's silly words. But she knew what had prompted this uncharacteristic giddiness in him. "What utter nonsense, Son. But I'll disregard it, as you are clearly intoxicated by love."

Draco smiled as he kissed his fiancee's cheek. "I certainly am."

* * *

 

A week later, Draco and Hermione went to Pansy and Neville's garden party. They had told no one of their engagement; both felt they didn't want to detract attention from the other couple's news of their pregnancy. But of course, it didn't turn out that way. As soon as they set foot on the Longbottom's terrace, Pansy, with her sharp eagle eyes, noticed something different about the two of them. It wasn't their matching outfits; Hermione in her lovely new sundress or Draco in a crisp, blue button-up shirt. It wasn't the way the two of them moved in unison, as if they were joined at the hip. And it wasn't Draco's solicitousness toward Hermione; he had always treated her like a queen. It was…..oh, my stars….. _that_   _ring_. The one on Hermione's...left ring finger. The antique opal had been a favorite of Pansy's when she was younger. She had often admired it when Narcissa had worn it.

She zeroed in on Hermione's bejeweled hand resting in the crook of Draco's arm. It was easy to guess what had happened.

"What is this?" she demanded as she came up to them and pointed to Hermione's hand. "Are you…..are you both…."

"Engaged? Yes," Draco said, smirking. He wanted to shout it out to everyone, but held himself in check. Barely.

"When did this happen? Neville, come look!"

Pansy's voice carried over to her other guests, who naturally were curious as to the cause of such excitement in their hostess. Afterwards, many congratulations, well-wishings, back-pattings and toastings were given for both couples. Laughter, like the sparkling elf wine, flowed in abundance at the luncheon. Grumbling because she had to stick to pumpkin juice, Pansy consoled herself with the strawberry shortcake that was brought out by the elves for dessert.

"I can have two helpings because I'm eating for two," she explained to Draco after seeing his brow rise at the size of her servings.

"Don't question a pregnant witch, mate," Neville chuckled. "Unless you want to take your life into your own hands."

"I imagine he'll find out all about it one day," Pansy teased around a bite of the shortcake.

Hermione blushed. Draco said, "I hope so." Brushing some stray curls away from her cheek, he murmured, "I can't wait."

A whiny voice started from the other side of Hermione. "Gah…..is this how you're going to be from now on? Hermione, you've ruined him. He's so mushy." Leaning forward so he could see his friend, Theo said, "You're acting like a sappy Hufflepuff. Have some dignity, will you?" Then he begged the witch between them, "Please marry him soon before he shames the name of Slytherin."

Theo had just meant to tease, but Draco knew an opportunity when he heard it. Taking advantage of the silence, he confessed, "I'd marry you today if I thought you'd let me."

Theo made a face. "Ew, why would I want to marry  _you_?"

Draco reached over Hermione to swat his incorrigible friend on the head. "Not you, you dunderhead."

Although everyone else had laughed at Theo and Draco's exchange, Hermione hadn't. Beside her, Theo was still sniggering. Ignoring him, she asked in a trembling voice, "You really…..did you  _really_  mean that?"

Draco's silvery grey eyes captured her brown ones and held them with their intensity. "Every word of it."

Pansy grinned at her husband. Neville gave her a wink back before he said to the couple across from them, "Hey you two…..I think that's a great idea. Draco, tell your mum she can help herself to any of the flowers we have here in the greenhouse."

"Well, great. Now you've got to do it, 'Mione," said Theo. "None of us will want to put up with Draco's moping if you don't."

Hermione's mind whirled. This was happening so fast. But as she continued to look into the face of the one who was going to be her future, she became calm. A rare peace settled over her. Leaning over to give him a kiss, she said, "All right."

Draco paused. "You...are you serious?"

Hermione nodded. "I am. Just as soon as your mum can get it arranged."

Theo laughed. "Oh...now you're stuck, Lioness. We all heard that. You can't back out now."

Draco sat there for a second, his mouth gaped open. Then surprising everyone, he threw his cloth napkin up into the air and shouted.

"I'm getting married!"

* * *

 

In spite of the peace she initially felt, Hermione had moments of uncertainty. Not of loving Draco; she knew her heart better than that. But of the feeling that she was somehow betraying the memory of Harry. She kept recalling to herself Pansy's words, but sometimes it wasn't enough to keep the doubts at bay.

One night she cried herself to sleep thinking of what Harry would say to this. She kept imagining him looking hurt, the way he had when the Weasley's banded against him. The memory of his sad face when Ron had turned against him played in her mind's eye all day. Although mentally she knew better, her heart accused her of doing the same.

That night, she had a dream. It was the most vivid dream she'd ever had in her life. She found herself back at Hogwarts, in the library. She was looking for a book she needed. She knew she had to have it to pass a test that was coming up soon. She looked in all the familiar places, but couldn't find the book she needed. She went to Madame Pince, but was told she'd have to find it for herself. Desperate, Hermione found herself going to the other students sitting around at the various tables, asking them for help. Either they laughed at her and said there was no test scheduled, or they smirked and told her she was muggleborn and didn't deserve to read the book.

Finally Hermione threw herself into a chair at a table that was empty. Covering her face with her hands, she began to cry.

"I'm going to fail!" she sobbed.

"No. No, you're not."

Gasping, Hermione looked up to see Harry coming toward her in the library. He looked so handsome, smiling his crooked, mischievous smile, his green eyes dancing with joy at seeing her. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. At first, all she could feel were those familiar and beloved arms holding her once again. God, how she had missed it. But after a minute, she realized something felt off. Although Harry had hugged her unreservedly, she now noticed his touch was different. At first, she couldn't put her finger on it, but then it came to her. Harry was no longer embracing her as a lover. As a husband. She reluctantly pulled away from him, feeling guilty, but without remembering why she felt that way.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she said.

He looked at her oddly. "Why?"

Hermione looked down. She bit her lip. "I'm going to mess everything up. I just know it. This test…...I don't know what I'm supposed to do…. I need to study…...but I can't find the proper book to help me." She looked up at him then, tears glittering in her eyes. "I'm going to muck up everything!"

Harry gave her a look she'd seen a million times. It was a loving, understanding, yet slightly exasperated look. She half expected him to roll his eyes at her.

"'Mione…..when have you ever failed at anything? And you won't this time, either."

"Without this book, I will!"

He looked at her a moment. It occurred to her then he wasn't wearing any glasses.

Sighing, he said, "Wait here."

She watched as Harry walked over to a part of the library she hadn't been. He went down one aisle and paused. Then he reached out and took a book from the shelf. It was a large book, bound with rich, green leather with silver-embossed lettering on the front of it.

"Here it is, 'Mione."

She stared at it. "Where…..where did you find it?"

He gave her an understanding smile. "Where you had left it."

She took the book from Harry and looked back at him. "Thank you. I didn't know where it was."

Harry affectionately brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. "I know. You had stored it in the wrong place."

Just before Harry left her, he turned around and gave her a loving look. Then he said, "'Mione? That book doesn't belong in the Restricted Section."

As Harry was walking away, she looked down at the title of the book. The name of it was " _How to Marry a Malfoy_ ".

A sob tore from Hermione's throat. She remembered then the source of her guilt. Running after Harry, she cried, "Harry! Harry…..please!"

He turned around and looked at her.

Catching up with him, she said, "Harry…..I love you. Please believe that. But…..but I've fallen in love with Draco."

The smile he gave her was warm and tender. "I know. It's okay. You're supposed to."

He was beginning to fade away. "Harry…..you don't mind if I marry him?" she rushed to ask.

She could barely see him anymore when she heard his voice fading into the misty distance, "...not….restricted…..."

Hot tears were on Hermione's face when she woke up.

But now she  _knew._

* * *

 

The day of their wedding turned out to be glorious. Draco was up with the dawn, too excited to sleep. He walked out into the gardens to see what his mother had done before she'd gone to bed the night before. He looked at the lavish flower arrangements, magically kept fresh for later on that day. He took his time as he made his way up to the canopy, fashioned of wood from their sacred grove. He could feel the power of the magic already, the mystic symbols having already been carved into the oak's bark. He was going to marry Hermione at four o'clock that afternoon, in keeping with the four elements; Earth, Air, Fire and Water and with the four sacred directions; North, South, East and West. Just as all those had been present with creation, he and Hermione would be creating at four that day a new unity. A new direction for their lives. He shivered, the magic within him resonating against the waves of power waiting to be unleashed for the upcoming merging of his and Hermione's soul.

After breakfast, Neville, Theo and Blaise carted Draco off to Neville's home so that Pansy, Luna and Narcissa could ready Hermione for that afternoon. Narcissa had planned everything out in meticulous detail. The elves not busy in preparation for the wedding and reception were charged in keeping the children safe and happy. James was busy playing with Clover, one of the younger elves while Clover's mother was tending Lorenzo, Blaise and Luna's baby boy.

While the men kept Draco relaxed by playing pickup games of Quidditch, the witches at Malfoy Manor pampered Hermione with a luxurious milk bath, followed by a massage, then pedicure and manicure. Hermione felt like a spoiled celebrity. She giggled with Luna, both of them sipping on delicious, ice-cold limoncello while listening to Pansy complain about the perfumes she could no longer wear without becoming sick to her stomach.

"I remember going through that with James," said Hermione, fondly thinking back to that time. "Except for me, it was the smell of bacon. And I  _love_  bacon!"

The girls laughed. Luna said, "Smells didn't bother me too much. It was the texture and taste of things that got to me. I couldn't eat cheese for the entire nine months. And the texture of asparagus…..eww," she shuddered.

"Well, I don't blame you for that. I don't like asparagus when I'm not pregnant," said Pansy. "It looks like some limp, dead thing after it's cooked."

Hermione started laughing. "I remember the first time we gave James asparagus. He was used to eating broccoli, liked it in fact, so we thought he'd like the other, too. He always called broccoli little trees, so when we gave him the asparagus, he took one look at it, then he looked up and said, 'Is this a  _dead_ tree?' Harry and I couldn't stop laughing."

"Did he eat it?" asked Pansy

Hermione shook her head. "He took one bite and spit it out. That was alright with us. It was never our favorite vegetable, either."

After a late lunch, the ladies began to dress themselves and prepare Hermione to meet Draco. Pansy expertly applied the magical makeup that had come a few days before from Paris.

Hermione looked askance at it, but Narcissa waved her concerns away. "It's the latest thing. I've been dying to try it myself."

"It's wonderful," said Pansy. "Believe me, once you go magic, you'll never go back to boring muggle makeup."

"Hey!" said Hermione. She normally didn't wear much makeup at all, but she still defended her background.

"No slight meant, my dear," cooed Pansy, understanding her friend's objections. "But wait until you have this on your face and you'll see what I mean."

A moment later, Hermione understood. The magical foundation didn't just sit on top of her skin; it became part of her skin.

"Oh!" she gasped. She looked up to see Pansy smirking.

"Didn't I tell you? Now, you'll believe me. When I'm through with you, Draco will be speechless. You'll look like a fairy princess."

Narcissa left Hermione's two friends to finish up with dressing her as she left to check on things before the ceremony started. Using their wands, Luna and Pansy began to wrap the newly blessed, enchanted cloth around Hermione's bare form.

 _This is so much better than buttons and zippers_ , thought Hermione. The material bowed to the witches' vision for their friend. When they were done, Hermione looked into the mirror.

Pansy had been wrong. She didn't look like a fairy princess.

She looked like a goddess.

* * *

 

The old grandfather clock in the main downstairs hallway rang out with four deep chimes. It was now four o'clock. Outside in the gardens, Draco was having to concentrate on his breathing. His hands were wet with sweat. He'd never felt so nervous before.

 _What's wrong with me?_  he thought to himself. He'd played in Quidditch games, he'd been in the presence of nobles and dignitaries; heck, he'd had to live with Voldemort…...so why was his pulse racing so wildly now?

 _Because you are marrying the love of your life_ , his heart said. But why would that make him nervous?

_Because you still think you don't deserve her._

He'd never recalled his inner voice being so chatty before. But he knew it spoke the truth. Draco didn't think he would ever deserve the witch coming to him that day. A sudden flash of memory hit him. Hermione in their parlor, screaming…...her blood pooling on the floor.

_And you did nothing to help her! You loved her and you did nothing…...nothing…_

_You're nothing._

A dull sadness began to creep over him. He looked down at his shoes.

 _Cripes…...tears? Pull yourself together, man!_ he told himself. Next to him as his attendant, Theo noticed Draco's struggle.

"You okay?"

Draco didn't speak. He just nodded.

In spite of his teasing, puck-like ways, Theo was a sensitive soul and could guess what Draco was going through. In a rare show of maturity, he put his hand on Draco's shoulder and said, "You're perfect for her. Never doubt it."

Draco looked up at Theo then and saw an unspoken understanding in his friend's eyes. The feeling of guilt and unworthiness had been emotions every Slytherin had had to come to terms with since Voldemort's defeat. The two wizards, friends since childhood, silently communicated with each other until something else drew Theo's eye away from Draco. He saw a stir from behind them. A mischievous grin began to bloom across his face. Theo saw that James had done what he'd pulled him aside to ask him to do. He elbowed Draco in the ribs and said, "Take a look behind you, Loverboy."

Draco glanced over his shoulder. James was coming up the garden pathway to where they were under the oaken canopy. He was carrying a sign that said,  _Uncle Draco….here comes your Bride!_

Draco immediately recognized the wandwork on the sign.

"Theo…..you absolute prat…." he whispered. Then he said, "Thank you, Mate."

Theo's answer was a wink.

Draco took a deep breath.  _Any second now…._

"Thar she blows!" Theo whispered gleefully.

Draco knew he was supposed to stay facing forward, but he couldn't help it. He had to see Hermione. He turned around, then sucked in a breath. She was coming to him, dressed in a gauzy silken dress, the likes he'd never seen before. There were little Narcissus flowers woven in her hair, no doubt his mother's handiwork. Her skin looked dewy and soft…..and her face. Merlin, her face glowed. Her cheeks were rosy as if they'd been kissed by the blush roses she now carried and her hair shined, little glimmers of gold peeking out from around the flowers. When she reached him, she gave her bouquet to Pansy, then held her hands out to join with his.

Hermione quivered with excitement. She and Draco were having a purely magical wedding. From her makeup, to the dress, to the ceremony they were about to perform. All of it would be magic. Hermione wasn't exactly sure what to expect. She and Harry had both been raised as muggles, so their wedding had been like the kind they'd been to before. There had been no merging of the souls with them. But Draco had never known anything but magic. The bond they were about to make would reflect that.

Taking their place under the oaken branches, carved with runes and spelled with enchantments, they spoke eternal vows to one another. Vows to love. To cherish. To honor. To provide. To defend. When they were done, the priest gave each of them a golden ring. Taking turns, they placed the ring on each other's left forefinger. Draco sucked in a breath. Although he'd known what to expect, the bonding rings had surprised him with the the strength of the charm on them. His finger began to burn. Looking at Hermione, he nodded in answer to the unspoken question in her eyes. They were in this together. Whatever was going to happen, it would happen to them both.

Once the rings were exchanged, the priest made an incision along both their ringed forefingers, following a path to their wrists. Then while their blood pooled underneath them, he bound their hands and cast the spell to join their souls.

The oaken canopy above them burst into flame and surrounded Draco and Hermione. Those watching gasped. Inside the bubble of fire, both felt the sting of death as the fire licked them from the inside out. They became as ash. The wind inside the inferno blew them about, intermixing their powdery residue. Then a cold as the stillness of a frozen winter tundra overcame them. They became their own grave. For a few beats of time, nothing lived. Nothing moved. Gradually, a soft breeze began to blow along their desolate earth. An awakening. A newness that felt like the first day of spring after a long winter began to rise from their ashes. They were being reborn. Their two essences had blended, becoming one.

Encased in the magical sphere, both bride and groom were filled with questions.

 _What just happened?_ wondered Hermione. Had that been real? Had they really died?

Or had it been purely magic?

Beside her, Draco wondered if that was what Fawkes went through during his burning days.

Almost as soon as it had happened, it was over. The oaken canopy became once again just that. The priest, who had never been in danger of any flames, magical or otherwise, gave his final instruction. "As thou art now one, seal thy bond with true love's kiss."

 _It had to have been magic,_  thought Hermione. Their hands and wrists were still bound together by the satin sash. Otherwise, how did the ribbon not burn with them? Hearing a little noise, she realized the priest had cleared his throat as if to bring her attention once more to the ceremony.

Draco bent his head down and pressed his lips against hers. A sudden shock, similar to jumping in ice cold water, ran through her being. She felt an immediate pull to Draco. A different kind of need. A deeper hunger. It was her soul, her very being recognizing its other half and wanting to join back with it. She heard Draco's gasp and knew he'd felt the same thing. Then they both felt a new tingling. A crawling sensation, not unpleasant, but rather tickling, began to run across their palm to their wrist. They both looked down to see the sash had disappeared. In its place the same series of runes that had been on the wood now appeared on their skin.

"Our marriage mark," Hermione whispered as she traced the runes on his skin. Draco jumped. Her finger was lighting a different kind of fire within him than what he'd just gone through. This time, his arms were free to pull her in close to his heart and give her a more thorough kiss. They both wished those watching would go away. Draco understood now why in olden times this ceremony was performed with privacy and discretion. All he wanted at that moment was to have his bride.

 _Blast it all, he thought._ He felt Hermione tremble as she hung on tightly to him. Looking down, he saw her beautiful brown eyes filled with desire as she stared up into his eyes _._

_She feels this, too._

That thought would have to be enough to get him through the next few hours.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Draco knew he would be in trouble with his mother if ever he was stupid enough to admit it, but the truth was he never remembered much about what she'd done for his and Hermione's wedding reception. He seemed to recall bright flowers of some description on each table; he thought he saw the elves bringing out trays of canapes…..or had they been finger sandwiches? He didn't know for certain; he had been too excited to eat anything. But he did remember the champagne being quite good. He remembered the warmth of Hermione's body as she stayed close by his side. He definitely remembered how it had felt to refer to her as his _wife_ for the first time. As they made their way around to greet the guests, Draco kept feeling like he should pinch himself. Had it really happened? Was he really married to Hermione? He had wanted her for so long. To finally have her as his felt surreal.

When it was time for them to have their first dance, he heard her sigh as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Anything wrong, love?" He asked.

She smiled contentedly against him. "Not a thing. I was just thinking how nice this was." She looked up to see the solicitousness in his eyes mellow into relief. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

Draco swallowed hard. There were those blasted tears again, trying to make a comeback. "You have. But feel free to say it whenever you like. I'll never tire of hearing it."

Hermione saw Draco's eyes glistening and her tender heart overflowed. Reaching up, she pulled his handsome head down to give him a kiss. "My heart," she murmured against his lips.

Hearing that, Draco pulled her up even more tightly against him. His lips next to her ear, he whispered fervently, "I can't wait to be alone with you. How long do these bleeding receptions last?"

Hermione laughed at his impatience but secretly agreed with him. But she wasn't going to tell him that. It would only make it harder for the both of them. Instead, she gave him another kiss. This one a slower, more lingering one.

The guests watching the pair gasped when the air around Draco and Hermione began to shimmer. It was a testament to the rightness of their union; a sign not often witnessed. Not every married couple had that kind of tie. Only the most magical connections could manifest themselves like that.

To muggles, it would seem as if the air around them had heated up, causing the air to be less dense, enabling the light going through it to refract or bend differently. But wizardkind knew better. They knew before them was not only a bonded couple, not only blended souls in love, but like magicks. Not every supernatural ability had the same origin. Not every power had the same root. The new Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's cores had to have been forged from the same source to produce an aura of light magic.

"Do you see that?" asked an older wizard to his wife beside him.

"Remarkable, " she breathed. "In all my years, I've never known it to happen. I…..I thought it a myth."

"Can you imagine the strength of their union?" her husband added. "They'll be nigh unstoppable."

As the elderly couple continued their discussion, a witch standing quietly behind them heard everything. Her eyes, the only thing that could be seen peering out from behind her niqab, narrowed in thought. She had assumed the bride's first husband had been her true match. They had been inseparable during school. But if what the old couple in front of her was saying was true...

Perhaps she had miscalculated.

She turned to the aging man standing beside her. "Did you hear that?"

Keeping his eyes on the couple, he gave her a barely discernible nod. "Doesn't matter, " he whispered. "I took care of what I needed to. My son's been avenged."

The witch's eyes blazed with anger as she hissed, "And what about me? What about justice for _me_?"

The man shrugged, unsure. "This marriage…..it will complicate things."

The witch's scars, hidden by the veil she was now forced to wear, reddened in response to her hate. "I don't care. They'll slip up sometime. When they do, I want you to make sure the others are ready."

"So…...going for her this time?" he asked.

The witch took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing pulse. "No. Nothing's changed. I don't want to take her out of misery…..I want to put her back in it. I'll terminate _him_."

"And the boy?"

The witch paused. "I'll have him brought to me. He will ensure her anguish. It will be sweet revenge to have her wondering what became of her son." She chuckled. "I'll make sure she never finds out. It will be an eternal torment."

They said no more as they watched the newlyweds twirl around in delirious happiness.

_Enjoy your bliss now, Hermione Malfoy,_ the veiled figure thought. _It won't last._

_You made me suffer. You scarred me for life._

_And you will pay._

* * *

 

The first stars were beginning to show when Hermione and Draco made ready to leave the reception. They had said goodbye to James after spending some time with him. The little boy didn't know it yet, but Draco had already started the process of adoption. He'd told Blaise to draw up the papers that would make James an equal Malfoy heir to any future siblings he might have, even though he wouldn't be carrying the name. Draco had strongly felt that James should keep Harry's surname.  
James was on a sugar high, having had a grand time with everyone. Pansy took her turn dancing with him, finding him a most energetic partner. Theo lifted him up and carried him about on his shoulders so he could see everything that was happening. When Draco and Hermione cut their cake, James was right there, pinching off bits of the frosting he loved.

"Look, Mummy!" he pointed to the confection that towered over his head. "It's da castle!"

Sure enough, Narcissa had special ordered their cake to be fashioned into a miniature Hogwarts. Hermione cut off a bit of a tower to feed Draco. "This was where our dorms were," she said as he opened his mouth obediently.

Surprising her, Draco bypassed the Slytherin dungeons in favor of feeding her a piece of the Quidditch pitch. "I was happiest here," he said as she took a bite. "I would often watch you as you cheered for your house. You were a great supporter. No wonder they always won."

Hermione smiled. She knew the reason they won was because of Harry, but there was no point in mentioning that.

"What piece do you want, James?" Draco asked as he held the knife.

The little boy thought a moment. Then he pointed to the main part of the castle. "Da gwate hall,' he answered. Laughing, Draco scooped out a piece from right in the middle of the cake.

"Merlin Draco…...did you give him all the icing?" asked Hermione. "He'll never settle down tonight."

Draco chuckled. "It won't be our problem, will it love? Although Mother may try to kill me when we get back." He and Hermione planned to spend the weekend at a secluded cottage outside of Ballycastle in Northern Ireland. Then they would come back to pick up James. They didn't want to spend too much time away from him. For the rest of their honeymoon, they planned to take him on a surprise trip to a place James believed was more magical than the world he lived in. Hermione couldn't wait to tell him they were going to Disneyworld in Florida. She'd even gone ahead and purchased a Mickey Mouse hat with ears for him to wear while he was there. She'd threatened Draco with a hat of his own when they'd been shopping. He'd been a pill at first, not understanding why he couldn't wear his usual muggle attire. She had had a hard time convincing him to purchase shorts and sandals in keeping with the tropical weather. But then he'd turned around and surprised her by buying the gaudiest Hawaiian shirts she'd ever seen. She'd had to admit the bright colors looked good on him.

They said their goodbyes to their loved ones and friends and gave James one more kiss and hug and told them they'd be back on Sunday afternoon.

He barely noticed their leaving, he was laughing so hard at the faces Theo was making just for his benefit.

The last image Hermione and Draco saw before they twisted out of sight was their son trying to help himself to Baboo's flute of elf wine.

_Bless her,_ thought Hermione. _She'll need a vacation for herself when this is all over._

When they stopped their spinning, the first thing Hermione saw was the midnight blue waters of the North Channel to the Irish Sea. Ahead of them lay Rathlin Island; to the east, the tip of Scotland. A brisk wind whipped the water, making whitecaps.

"This is beautiful, Draco," she whispered.

He held her close to his chest as he stood behind her. "Just wait until you see it in daylight, love."

She snuggled closer to him and pulled his arms even more tightly around her. "I don't know…...I think the moonlight suits it…..don't you think?" she turned her head to look back at him.

Draco sucked in a breath. Hermione was so lovely. And she was his. "You like the way things look in moonlight?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes sparkled in the dim light. "I do. Everything becomes…..bewitching." Pointing to the sea, she said, "Look…...out there, beyond the rock; the waves are wild and free. And over there," she pointed to a grassy field, "See how the wind is caressing the tops of the grass? As if the two of them were lovers... like _us_ ," she whispered before she reached back with one hand to cup the back of his head. Leaning back, she offered her mouth to him.

Draco wasted no time claiming it. Almost immediately, their kiss became a fiery inferno of passion. Without waiting for permission, Draco picked up Hermione, bridal-style, and apparated away with her into the main bedroom of the cottage that had stood behind them. Once there, he laid her down on the bed and joined her. It wasn't long before both of them were panting with need, their clothes off, scattered all over the bed and floor.

Draco paused. Hermione stilled her wandering hands to look at him. "Sweetheart…..is something wrong?"

Still breathing heavily, Draco admitted, "I….I just want to please you. I want to make this good for you."

"Did you hear me complaining?" she chuckled as she smoothed his hair back away from his eyes. "You may proceed, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco cupped her face with both hands. She noticed they were shaking. "Hermione, I was so arrogant when I was young. I didn't think anyone deserved me."

_What is he going on about?_ she wondered. _Good heavens, Draco, do you have to reminisce now?_

"When my hormones finally kicked in...I…..I had already fallen in love with you. What I'm trying to say is…."

Hermione finally caught on. She made a soft sound of surprise. "You've... _never_?"

Draco looked at her, half in embarrassment and half in stubbornness. He shook his head. "I never wanted anyone….just you."

"Oh, Draco…." Hermione's heart felt like it would burst. This kind, loving, _gorgeous_ man had saved himself for her? Without having the hope of ever being with her? Tears formed in her eyes.

_I don't deserve him_ , she thought.

Draco softly began to kiss her; her nose, her forehead, her cheeks, her chin….her lips. With his mouth still peppering barely-there kisses there, he whispered, "You'll be my only." Then he deepened the kiss. Soon Draco became unrestrained. Hermione could immediately feel the difference. All the love he'd held back for so many years was finally free to express itself.

Draco hadn't lied; Hermione could tell this was his first time…..at times he seemed hesitant and uncertain. So she helped him. He willingly let her move his hands to where she wanted them and told him between gasps and kisses what felt the best. She found Draco to be an exceptionally quick learner. He was also a quick responder. Hermione knew there were things a woman could do that any man would like, but there were also touches she gave that were unique to her husband's pleasure. He loved it when she played with his hair. He groaned when she licked his marriage mark. When she sucked on his earlobes, he closed his eyes and chuckled, telling her it tickled. But when she moved lower down on his body, Draco lost all semblance of self-control. He shivered and moaned, crying out her name, unconsciously pulling on her hair, gasping out how much her loved her…...how much he needed her. Draco's emotions were as naked as his body; and Hermione loved it. She loved that he trusted her enough to show his vulnerability to her. She knew he was turning all power over to her and she was determined not to disappoint him.

She needn't have worried. Both she and Draco came undone time and time again as the night progressed, stopping every so often to sleep a bit before one of them would wake the other, never tiring of the cycle of giving and receiving love.

A couple of times during the night Draco woke up and found himself disoriented. He wouldn't know where he was until he became aware of Hermione's warm body curling around his. Then what they'd done would come crashing into in his mind. Each time that happened he wept, shaking silently, overwhelmed with gratitude and joy. He would gather Hermione as closely as he could without crushing her and breathe in the scent of her hair. It was such a clean, simple scent. Nothing pretentious…..just pure Hermione. The scent of sun-dried cotton and the white flowers that grew in the borders surrounding the garden at the manor. Draco thought he had loved Hermione before….but nothing had prepared him for the enormity of feeling he had experienced in making love to her. It made him think he had been only half-alive. Perhaps he had been. Like a blind man seeing the world around him for the first time or a deaf man finally being able to hear a symphony, Draco felt he had finally tasted the height and breadth and length and depth of love. He looked down at Hermione's sweet face as she slept in his arms. A half smile still showed on her lips. Seeing it made Draco smile. He had made her happy. And she had shown him in more ways than he could count how much his love was returned. Hermione, in typical Gryffindor fashion, had displayed no fear or hesitancy in their lovemaking.  
The memory of their ardor caused Draco's skin to flush with renewed desire. His wife was incredible. Yes…. _his_ wife. He'd wondered if he would have trouble accepting that when she'd been Harry's for so long, but surprisingly, there had been no moment last night when the ghost of Harry's memory had come between them. Draco felt it had been a wedding blessing from Harry himself. Why, he couldn't say, but Draco couldn't shake his conviction that Harry was happy with their union.

For the better part of the weekend, Draco and Hermione stayed inside their cozy little cottage. Both were insatiable in their hunger for the other. The day following their wedding night turned out to be a rainy, drizzly kind of day, so they put their bed to good use while the rain splashed against the windowpanes. The only times they roused from it were to eat, their food magically appearing at appointed times, or when they took long baths or showers together, often getting sidetracked from their intended purpose. When Sunday came, the morning dawned bright and clear. Draco covered Hermione with his robe and took her outside so she could finally see the sea. The sunlight had cast sparkling diamonds along the top of the water. He showed her the island, then pointed to Scotland.

"Where I first met you," he whispered.

She hummed, smiling in memory of the pale blonde boy, that truth be told, she'd thought quite pretty until he opened his mouth. Hermione looked up into Draco's face. He was still beautiful, even though he bore evidences of the cruelties he suffered. Shirtless in the sun, she could see the razor-thin lines that told of repeated crucios he'd received from the Dark Lord. She saw the scar from when Harry struck him with Sectumsempra. The night before she'd kissed every inch of that scar, whispering her sorrow and regret that it had ever happened. She did the same with his dark mark and pretended not to notice when Draco's tears dropped off his face to land on the pillow.

Then he'd turned around and done the same for her. He'd kissed the old scar she'd received during the fight at the Ministry. She sucked in a breath when he picked up her arm and with his fingertips traced over the letters spelling the horrible _mudblood_. He placed open-mouth kisses over every letter, repeatedly apologizing for what his family had done to her. Then he broke and sobbed, begging her forgiveness for not being strong enough, brave enough to save her. Hermione held him as he shook, repeating over and over that she'd forgiven him….that she loved him.

"Sweetheart…. _please_ ," she said as she cupped his wet cheek with her hand. Draco looked so sorrowful. She had to make him see the truth. "You did save me. You _did_. When Harry died…," she choked, the memories overwhelming her, "I….I was lost. And….you saved me. _You_ did that."

That seemed to comfort him. Another round of lovemaking helped even more. Emotions already high, it was if they had suddenly thrown gasoline on a fire. It was explosive. Both felt they were clawing to get out of their skin to join with the other. They couldn't get close enough. They couldn't kiss deeply enough. Then with a surge of passion, they both reached a point where they toppled off together into ecstasy, the depths of which they'd not reached before. Neither had any words for it; they could only fathom colors, only hear each other's inarticulate cries of rapture, only feel a throbbing pull that felt like a combined heartbeat. When they finally came back to their senses, they _knew_. They were one. If they'd had any doubt before, it had been obliterated by that experience.

Sighing in deep satisfaction over that memory, a mischievous thought suddenly presented itself to Hermione. With an impish look on her face, she asked Draco how secluded they actually were.

"Look around and see for yourself," he said. "There's nothing around us."

Hearing that, Hermione smiled and with a flick of her wrist, threw off Draco's robe. She began to skip and dance about; no inhibitions, no self-consciousness, baring all her glory as she twirled around like a little girl, the constant wind whipping her hair about her.

Draco stood still, transfixed by the sight. He had never seen anything so glorious in his entire life. He decided to join her. Unzipping his pants, he soon had them off, and raced over to grab his wife and threw her over his shoulder.

"Draco!" she squealed. "You've got me mooning the world!"

Sure enough, Hermione's lovely, rounded rear had taken center stage on Draco's shoulder while the rest of her hung upside down. Giving the part of her that was closest to his face a loving caress, he then began to pat her bottom as if he was playing the rhythm to a song.

"What are you doing? Put me down!"

Ignoring his wife, Draco kept in time with the syncopated beat, swaying back and forth to its tempo. "You got to dance, so I'm going to play," he said as he placed a kiss on the side of her hip.

"Draco Malfoy, does my bum look like a bongo drum? Stop that!" she ordered between giggles.

_If that's what a bongo drum looks like, I'm buying one_ , thought Draco. He kept on playing.

Deciding to give him a bit of his own medicine, Hermione reached down to Draco's easily accessible rear and pinched it. Hard. She laughed when he jumped.

"Ow!" he hollered. Then he snorted. If Hermione had been able to see his face, she would have seen a devilish smile appear. Draco chuckled at Hermione's squeals when she realized he'd started walking her down to the water.

"Don't you even think of it," Hermione warned.

"Think of what?" Draco asked innocently. _Too_ innocently.

"You know what. Throwing me into that ice cold water."

"It's summertime, love."

"It's the blasted North Channel! It's always cold!"

"Is it? Let's find out," he said, and before Hermione could say anything else, he plunged both of them into its frigid depths.

When they came up for air, Hermione's teeth were chattering. "You're so dead," she said to her equally wet husband.

It _was_ cold. Draco shivered as he pulled her close to him. Giving her a quivering kiss, then said, "Ugh. This wasn't as much fun as I'd thought. Let's go back to the cottage. I know what will warm us up."

* * *

 

**AN:** Well, I'm sure most of you now know who Harry's killer was. But do you know who her companion was? The next chapter will give all the details regarding the bad guys. One item now, though. In case you don't know…...Hermione's enemy is not Muslim. She covers herself only to hide her disfigurement.

After reading this chapter, you may think Draco is a crybaby. Not at all. He's tough stuff. But he was emotionally overwhelmed. He'd been holding back so much for so long; when he finally was able to let it go, it ALL came out. Don't expect this amount of waterworks from him going forward. He got most of it out of his system. Besides, he now has other ways to relieve himself of tender feelings. *wink-wink*


	7. Chapter 7

 

Inspiration quote for this chapter:  _ **"Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge."**_ **—J. K. Rowling**

* * *

 

On the Wednesday after Draco and Hermione's wedding, a meeting was called. Present there was an assortment of wizards…..young, old….some British, some not. A few of them rough and unkempt, many of them showing scars, these wizards congregated in one of the deserted buildings in Knockturn Alley. Sitting in a corner of the room, a veiled witch waited patiently until all had arrived. When everyone was present, she stood to address the group.

"As you are all aware, our dear Mr. Mackabee was good enough to volunteer to follow our newlyweds to Ireland this past weekend." All heads turned to said wizard when she asked, "Well? What information do you bring us? Did you hear or see anything worth noting?"

The tall wizard snorted. "I should say so. I got a bloody eyeful. Malfoy has a beautiful wife, I'll give him that."

Some chuckles could be heard throughout the room, but they stopped when the witch before them snarled in a fit of temper.

"You would dare to throw  _her_ beauty in  _my_  face?  _Crucio_!"

The man began to scream in pain.

"Marietta…..stop this," the older wizard next to her said. "He meant no disrespect."

She deliberately waited a few seconds before lifting the curse. The man's wails of anguish had acted like a tonic to her. Darkly, she chuckled, "I'll let it go  _this_  time, Mackabee. Next time, I won't be so forgiving."

The young man slowly got up, rubbing his aching chest. Mumbling to himself, it sounded like he'd called the veiled figure standing in front of him a nasty name.

Marietta raised her wand to give the wizard another taste of her wrath, but a strong hand came down on her arm. "Enough. You're becoming as rabid as Bellatrix used to be. Save your rage for later."

Then the older man said to the group, "Your mistress has another assignment for you. The payment will be the same as before."

A voice from the side asked, "If it's someone as high profile as Potter was, then it's going to require more. His death cost me several of my best men."

Marietta leaned over to whisper to her companion. Straightening up, he said, "Agreed. Complete your assignment as ordered, and you shall have double your usual fee."

"Well, what is the job?" asked another wizard with an ugly scar running down the side of his face. "Who will we be offing this time?"

The older man hesitated. Then he said, "The new husband of the Mudblood must be destroyed."

The room erupted with the sound of grumbling and murmurs of unhappiness at that directive. A wizard bearing a familiar dark tattoo on his left arm cried out, "His father was one of us! This is a poor way of remembering him."

"Too true," acknowledged the wizard standing by Marietta. "Young Malfoy will be an unfortunate casualty. But it must be done."

"Why?" asked another wizard in the back. "Just because  _she_  says so?"

"Why yes," Marietta sneered, but her veil hid it. "It  _is_  because I say so."

With a flick of her finger, she wandlessly cast an  _imperio_ over the room. Only the man standing beside her was untouched by the spell. Raising her voice, she said, "You will watch. You will listen. Establish a time when the Malfoys are together outside the wards of the manor. Kill Draco Malfoy. You will act as if it's in retribution to something that happened during the war. Your revenge will be vicious; you will make it as painful as possible because  _she_  will be there, watching. Do not hurt the little boy. Bring him to me."

She felt a thrill of triumph when the men before her bowed deeply and as one reverently chanted, "Yes, my Lady."

Turning to the man beside her, she said, "Well, that takes care of that. I really must be off now. Crabbe, I assume you will handle the details?"

He nodded. "Leave it to me."

He watched as she apparated away. When he was sure she was gone, he lifted his wand and murmured, " _Finite Incantatem."_ Then quickly using an unforgivable of his own, he placed the men back under an imperio, only this time, _he_  would be their master.

"The heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy must be kept safe. Preserve his life; protect it as you would your own. Kill his filthy wife instead. Leave the child alone. Say nothing of this to your Mistress. Let her think her former instructions are being followed."

He waited for the men to absorb his command. Then he watched as they left the building.

"This madness has got to end," he muttered to himself.

_No pureblood should ever die for a muggleborn._

Thinking of the former glory days before his world had been brought to its knees, he shook his head morosely. He'd wanted the death of Hermione's first husband. Harry Potter had been the reason his own son was dead. He had felt vindictive pleasure at seeing the number of avadas that had been cast against the Chosen One's body. Justice had been served. But this? Marietta had gone mad. There was no longer any reason or justification to her obsession with hurting the Granger chit. Why not just end her?

He knew Marietta would feel betrayed when she discovered what he'd done; quite reasonably, too, since that was exactly what he was doing, but he didn't care. He didn't need her anymore. He'd already gotten what he wanted. All it had taken was a bit of coin to have an inroads within the ministry. Thanks to Marietta using her own mother's influence, many former death eaters had been able to skirt around certain punishments. They no longer had to make reparations. Family fortunes had been retained. Some had even regained their seats in the Wizengamot, just like young Draco had done. More and more were coming out of hiding. It had been a calculated risk for him to join forces with the young Edgecombe, but it had paid off for the ones who had avoided Azkaban. However, killing Draco had never been part of his plan. His death served no purpose and would stick in everyone's craw. Besides, Crabbe never forgot a favor. Lucius had saved him from the Kiss by claiming his crimes as his own. Lucius had given up hope for himself, but at least he could save one of their number. Crabbe knew the best way to repay that debt would be to keep Draco safe.

 _Lucius, I did it for you, old friend_ , was his final thought before he, too, apparated away.

* * *

 

Marietta Edgecombe sighed in satisfaction after taking a sip of her tea. She loved being in her cottage. For one thing, she didn't have to wear that heavy veil. No one stared at her there. Not even herself. There were no mirrors inside her home, nothing reflective that would inadvertently give her a glimpse of her disfigured face. Here, she could pretend she was normal. She could pretend she was still beautiful. She played with the ends of her curly red-blond hair. At least it still looked the same. At school, she'd been prettier than Granger. Her curls had never frizzed like Hermione's had. But somehow, that had never bothered the muggleborn. That irritating cow had stuck her nose up in the air and acted like her being at Hogwarts was a gift to the wizarding world.

 _And her so smart and smug_ , Marietta sneered.  _Who asked her to answer every question?_

But she had, always with an encyclopedic response that made her sound smarter than the professor teaching the class.

_What a pathetic show-off._

And then she'd had the gall to show up at the Yule ball looking like she did.

 _Must have taken all the witches in her house to help her get that pretty. Waste of magic, if you ask me._ Every Ravenclaw knew Viktor Krum had chatted up Marietta until little Miss Library had gotten his attention.

_I wonder what she had to promise to get him to go out with her. Self-serving little slut._

Oh, yes. Hermione Granger might have fooled everyone else, but Marietta had seen right through her. Mudblood trash trying to set herself up as a Pureblood princess. But she was nothing….nothing!

 _And that_ _ **nothing**_ _had the nerve to do this to me!_ she thought as she touched the bumps and ridges on her face _._ Marietta should have never let Cho talk her into joining the DA. She'd been cornered. Defy Umbridge and put her mum at risk? Or help her family?

_Like I had a choice. I had to protect my mother. But did Miss Know-It-All even consider that? Oh, right. Hermione Granger can break rules and be ruthless to protect the ones_ _**she** _ _loves, but no one else is allowed to be as loyal to_ _**their** _ _loved ones._

Marietta's comfort was that she'd already gotten to Hermione once. Her fortress had not been impenetrable. Marietta had been able to knock her off her high horse, partly in thanks to the help she'd received from that jealous little gossip, Ginny Weasley. Marietta knew Ginny trusted her. Cho still did, too. It was easy to manipulate the feelings of emotional people. Especially when she clearly had a handicap. The pity card often came in handy. Too bad Hermione hadn't realized she'd made enemies with someone as clever as her. Marietta had bided her time. Started making the necessary connections. She'd found Durmstrang to be a great resource for henchmen to do her bidding and tell her lies. Marietta might not have been a good DA member, but she excelled in other things; namely, unforgivables, especially the imperio curse. She'd not liked using it on her mum, but she'd comforted herself that the ends justified the means. Partnering with Vincent Crabbe's father had turned out to be an unexpected goldmine. He'd hated Potter. Marietta had used that to her advantage. It had been time for Hermione to feel the loss of  _something_. And the evidence of hostility carved into Harry's body? That had been for Hermione's benefit. Marietta grinned, the scars on her face twisting into a grotesque mask. She'd made sure her loathing for Hermione had been transferred into every curse that had hit Potter's body. Then she'd had the added pleasure of seeing Ginny when she'd been told the news. It had been a treat to see how Ginny had crumpled with grief when she'd found out Harry had been murdered. If only that vengeful harpy knew how much of a help she'd been to make that happen!

Marietta had not attended the funeral, but she had heard that Hermione had been distraught. If that interfering Slytherin had not been there, she might have even been suicidal.

That was something that kept Marietta puzzled. Why had Draco Malfoy befriended the Potters? He'd hated both of them at school. What changed his mind?

_What is it about her that men can't resist?_

Well, soon it wouldn't matter. Soon Granger would be a childless widow. Marietta couldn't wait to suck all the joy and love from her life.

_Just like she did with mine._

* * *

 

When Draco, Hermione and James made it back to the Manor after enjoying the Florida sunshine for a week, they came back sweaty, dusty and sunburned. Narcissa choked back a snort at seeing her son sporting a safari bucket hat with a cartoon mouse embroidered on the front of it. James had on the mouse ear hat that Hermione had bought for him before they left and Hermione….Narcissa could no longer hold back her mirth. Hermione had on a Norwegian viking helmet, complete with horns and blonde braids attached.

"Who are you supposed to be?" she asked her daughter-in-law.

"Mummy's da fat lady in the opwa," giggled James. "De one who sings at the end."

Everyone laughed at that.

"Well, I don't need to ask. It looks like a good time was had by all," Narcissa commented as she scooped up James for a hug and kiss. She immediately scrunched up her nose at the odor of  _eau de_   _perspiration_  on the little boy. "Oh, my. Baboo needs to give you a bath."

"I think we could all use one," said Hermione. "That place was  _hot_."

"But beautiful," added Draco. "I can't get over the imagination of muggles. That's  _their_  magic."

Hermione smiled at her husband. Draco had been as much of a kid on the trip as had James. They'd gone to all the parks. She'd loved Epcot the best; James loved Magic Kingdom. Draco had liked it all, except for the 3-D bee show inside the huge Tree of Life within Animal Kingdom. He'd been sitting in his seat when a simulated bee's stinger came out and jabbed his back. He'd yelped like he'd been hexed and complained of a backache for the rest of the day. And the life-sized Disney characters had freaked him out a bit until Hermione told him it was just a costume and that a muggle was inside it. He'd commented that the Haunted Mansion reminded him of Theo's manor and he said he'd felt like avada'ing himself when their ride had temporarily broken down in  _It's a Small World_  and he'd been forced to hear the dolls singing that song over and over while repairs had been made. But even with that, they'd all had a good time. James loved swimming in the pool at their hotel and he especially loved the strawberry yogurt ice pops that were sold by the vendors within the different kingdoms. They'd played at the water parks and had bonded even more as a family.

The night before they were to leave, James gave them a surprise. As they were tucking him into bed, he'd grabbed Draco by the neck and pulled him down for a hug.

"I love you, Daddy," he murmured as he gave Draco a tight squeeze. When it dawned on him what he'd said, he stuttered, "Uh…Unca…." was all he got out before Draco silenced him with a kiss on his forehead. "It's okay, Jamie. You you did ask me if I wanted to be your new daddy. Do you remember that?"

James nodded. "Uh-huh."

"And what did I say?"

The little boy furrowed his brow in thought, exactly how his father used to do. "You…..you wanted to be?"

Draco smiled tenderly at James. "I did. I said I wanted it more that anything. But I'm leaving that up to you. You don't have to call me that if you don't want to."

The little boy looked at his mother. Putting his finger in his mouth, a sure sign of his uncertainty, he said, "Mummy…...cans I call him Daddy?"

Hermione glanced over at Draco. The look on his face melted her heart. He loved them both so much.

"If you want to…...of course you can, Sweetheart," she'd answered.

James had needed no further assurances. Still holding on to Draco, he murmured against his neck, "My daddy now."

Hermione sighed at the tender memory while she watched James bounce animatedly around the room. He was telling Narcissa all about their trip.

"And…..da lights at night, Baboo….dey's zoomed and zoomed all ova da place! And Daddy let's me wide on his showdahs, and I's saw evwee fing!"

Hermione saw Draco wink at her. They'd all enjoyed Epcot's illuminations fireworks show over the lake.

Narcissa beamed with joy to hear Draco being called  _Daddy_ by the little boy _._ "My goodness, that sounds quite exciting. Why don't you tell me more while you bathe?" Calling for Skippy, Narcissa asked the elf to draw James a bath. Hermione and Draco watched as the two of them went up the stairs, James still excitedly jabbering while his Baboo patiently listened.

"Your mum is a saint," said Hermione, chuckling.

Pulling off his hat, Draco threw it down on the sofa. Then he put his arms around his wife. "She loves James. She enjoys her time with him." He dipped his head down to reach Hermione's neck and began to leave kisses on it. "Almost as much as I enjoy my time with you," he whispered against her ear, making goosebumps appear on Hermione's skin. Then he suddenly stopped. Hermione let out a little whine of disappointment.

Draco began to chuckle. "Sorry….but this has got to go. These braids are getting in the way and I don't want to take the chance of impaling myself on  _those_ ," said, jokingly referring to the horns on her headgear.

After he'd removed her helmet, he cupped the back of her head with his hands and claimed her lips.

Hermione hummed in pleasure at the feeling of Draco's mouth against hers.

"I've missed this, love," he said when he finally released them from their kiss.

"Missed what? The silence?" she joked.

"Being alone with you," he confessed.

They'd had to be careful around James, but thankfully his bed had not been next to theirs in their hotel suite; also, he was a heavy sleeper. It had given them time for themselves, even though it had come at a cost. There had been a few days when both had felt sleep deprived after their nocturnal adventures had kept them up the better part of the night.

Stroking the five o'clock shadow on Draco's face, she hinted, "While they're gone….we could get cleaned up, too."

Draco grinned. "You know, it would be wasteful to take two separate showers."

Hermione grinned back. "My feelings exactly."

* * *

 

Life had never been so good. Draco found himself waking up each morning with a smile on his face. Hermione was a cuddler and she never failed to have an arm around his waist and one of her legs sandwiched in between his. And he loved it. Draco had always been alone, so to have Hermione love and want him as much as she did….well, he didn't see how things could get any better than that. He often found himself whistling at work while brewing his potions; something he'd never done before. Hermione would wink at him on the days she helped at the shop and ask what had made him so happy. As if she didn't know.

They worked well together raising James. Draco usually deferred to Hermione if ever a difference of opinion came between them, but a couple of times he stood his ground. She hadn't liked it until he said, "There's no point in me trying to be a father for James if you won't let me be one. Trust me, 'Mione. I love him, too."

He had wondered if she would resent him for that, but surprisingly, the opposite had been true. A soft look came into her eyes and she nodded. "You're right. I…..I'm sorry, Draco. I do trust you. Completely."

After that, they seemed to reach an even deeper level of understanding between them. Draco was over the moon with joy every time James called him Daddy…..which was all the time, now. Theo was also delighted with it. He went around proudly proclaiming his 'favorite uncle' status with glee, since Draco had given up the title for a much better one. Hermione teasingly called Draco "Papa Bear" as a nickname. Theo would laugh every time he heard her say it and called them the Three Bears. Hermione would quip back that he was obviously Goldilocks, because he was always coming over to the manor uninvited, eating their food, while usually managing to break something while he was there.

But Theo didn't let her have the last word. He shot back that according to the tale, he was supposed to have the chance to try out her bed. Then he would wiggle his brows theatrically. Hermione always laughed at him; Draco would step in and tell his friend he made the ugliest Goldilocks imaginable and would he please go home and give them some peace. When they would finally be successful in shooing their irrepressible friend out the door, Hermione would whisper to her husband, "Only Papa Bear gets to share my bed."

Without fail, every time Hermione referred to him as a father, even in jest with that silly nickname, it would affect Draco. He would feel a sudden heat go through him every time she said it, her eyes lingering on him in a way Draco had become all too familiar with. She'd already admitted to him her hope to become pregnant quickly. Hermione knew how much Draco wanted a child of his own, and heaven help her, but she wanted it, too. Badly.

Night became the favorite part of Draco's day. He now knew what Hermione liked and never failed to please her. In return, she adored every part of his body. The Brightest Witch of their Age used all in her arsenal to seduce her already willing and eager husband. He told her after one of their many lovemaking sessions that he was awarding her an O for her skills. She'd grinned, pleased that she'd reduced Draco into a quivering, deliriously happy mass of flesh. The knowledge that they could be creating a baby made him want his wife even more. Draco figured it must be something instinctive, something hardwired into him, but he wanted to see Hermione round with his child. It kept him in a heightened state of arousal that Hermione had outwardly laughed at, but privately relished. They were both ravenous in their desire for the other.

So the days passed by, one blissful day following another as summer finally surrendered to autumn. The magic within the wards of Malfoy manor grew stronger, like supporting like. It was felt inside each inhabitant. Skippy acted like her name and skipped and pranced about, her little elf heart delighted with the harmony that had come to her family, James grew and without realizing it, began to take on the mannerisms of his new father; Narcissa doted on her family, and Draco and Hermione…...they had grown from newlyweds, to passionate lovers, to co-creators of not just one but two new lives, although that was something they had yet to discover.

Unknown to them, while all these changes had been occurring, they had been under surveillance. Their daily habits had been monitored. The restaurants where they ate, where they shopped and anywhere they frequented together as a family had been memorized. Finally, their unknown enemy felt confident they could predict where they would be on certain days at specific times. It was reported to their Mistress. She laughed, delighted at the progress.

A day was picked. A time was set.

* * *

 

 **AN** :  Marietta used the money from Crabbe to employ the Durmstrang goons. They are the magical equivalent of hired assassins. She keeps them under an imperio to better funnel her hate into their actions.

 


	8. Chapter 8

_I apologize for the length of this chapter. Alot of things had to happen, and it didn't feel right to divide it up._

 

 

Marietta hummed as she flitted around her cottage, spelling the dust rag to give the furniture in the little bedroom one more polish. She wanted it to be perfect. Today was the day. Today she would deliver her final revenge to her hated enemy. And gain a handsome son in the process. In spite of his unfortunate parentage, James Potter was a striking lad. And from what she could tell when she'd seen him about town, he was a sweet little boy. She gave the ring in her pocket a pat. She was quite proud of the enchantments she'd placed on it. It hadn't been easy, but she'd done it. As soon as James had that ring on his finger, the compulsion charms on it would draw him to her. He would be overcome with the need and desire to please her; he would adore her. He would forget all about  _Mummy_. Marietta's scars wouldn't bother him, because added to the compulsion charm was an illusionment spell. To his eyes, she would look like Venus herself, the epitome of grace and beauty.

Marietta giggled. So what if she never had a husband?

She would have a son instead.

Unlike Hermione.

* * *

 

"Hermione! Are you ready?" called out Draco as he reached for his shoes. He, Hermione and James were meeting with Neville and Pansy for brunch. Then he and Hermione planned to go to the shop to finish up on some orders they'd received for Halloween. He looked forward to teasing Pansy. His childhood friend had begun to show and was already wearing maternity tops that looked like miniature tents to Draco's eyes. He didn't recall Hermione wearing things like that when she'd been pregnant with James. In fact, he distinctly remembered the form fitting outfits that had hugged her growing curves. Slipping a loafer on, he thought back to those days; it made Draco impatient to see his wife bloom again; this time with  _their_  child. They'd not been using any kind of protection; hopefully, it wouldn't be long until she became pregnant. To see her grow and to know the life within her was the result of their intimacy….it was getting to be all he could think about.

"Well?"

Draco looked up, still holding his other shoe in his hand.

Hermione laughed at his expression. "You called me. I came. And then I find you zoned out. What's going on in that mind of yours?"

Draco shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile. "Just the usual. Can't keep my mind off of you, love."

Hermione gave her husband a tender smile. Running her fingers through his hair, she softly said, "What did I ever do to deserve you, Draco Malfoy? You're too good to me."

"Is that so?" he said as he stood up. Taking her into his arms, he gave her a warm hug. "I think it's rather the other way around."

She shook her head. "I beg the difference. But let's not argue. Especially since Pansy will kill us if we're late. Those pregnancy hormones are no laughing matter."

"That baby of hers has become a convenient excuse, hasn't it?"

Hermione agreed. "Poor Neville."

Draco huffed. "Poor us. I think she's rather enjoying it."

Hermione chuckled. 'Isn't that the truth? But don't worry, darling. When it's my turn, I promise to be good."

* * *

 

Ginny Weasley absently played with her food as she looked around inside Diagon Alley's newest restaurant. Slowly, her gaze made its way back to her companion as he finished up his full English breakfast. Thane Mackabee may have been a pureblood from a well-connected family, but the tall, young wizard did nothing for her. She heard no bells, she felt no shivers…...nothing. Ginny knew it wasn't his fault. It was hers. It had been that way for her ever since…..well, ever since the love of her life had been extinguished.

She never liked to think of that horrible day when she'd heard the news of Harry's death. She'd felt the walls caving in; she couldn't breathe. The worst mental suffering she'd ever experienced tormented her for weeks. What stung the most was that she couldn't publicly mourn him. She couldn't show that her own heart had been ripped in two. That honor, if one could call it that, had gone to Hermione. His wife and mother of his child.

Ginny played with her napkin. She could no longer remember what had started her downward spiral into this half-life she now endured; why she'd acted the way she did. All she remembered was the cruel pain she'd felt at Fred's passing. She'd needed an outlet for her agony; a target, a  _victim_  and Harry had been the safest choice. He would forgive her. He always had. But somehow, it had gotten out of hand. She'd let go of not just her pain but also her hold on him, her right to call him hers. She had banished him from her life. But not her heart. She'd had no power over him there. He'd stayed and festered as time went by.

Oh, she could see it all now. She'd been so blind. She'd twisted her family's attitude toward Harry. She'd made them hate him, and by extension, Hermione.

And for what? She'd cursed herself. She would always miss him. That was her future now. Ron's, too. He'd confessed to her the night of Harry's funeral. He'd crawled up to her bedroom, reeking of firewhiskey, and told her he'd gone to the funeral. Ron told her what Harry's magic had done. Then he'd wept, his hurt coming out like the horrible wails of a dying animal. They'd both sobbed for hours that night. She'd desperately tried to purge her soul of the blackness that had infested it. Of the dark that had found easy root. Cried out to the Powers to forgive her for sinning against love. It hadn't changed the awful truth. Harry was still dead.

Ever since then, Ginny had been a hollow shell. Life was a series of blah events. Joy had ceased to exist.

"You gonna eat that bacon?" Thane asked, his question bringing Ginny's thoughts back to the present.

Shaking her head, she said, "You can have it. I'm not that hungry."

He took it from her plate and stuffed it in his mouth. It was all she could do not to scowl. His eating habits were as bad as her brother's.

Swallowing the meat, he gulped down some tea, then wiped his face with his sleeve.

_Hello? Ever heard of a napkin, big boy?_

Ginny knew Thane had gone to Durmstrang; maybe that was why he was so….unrefined. She couldn't imagine manners being given any kind of priority there.

"Thanks," he said. Then he grinned. "I don't normally eat this much for breakfast, but I doubt I'll get any time for lunch today. Got a big job in front of me."

"Oh?" Ginny tried not to let her boredom show. She didn't even know what he did. Not that she cared.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked. Ginny tried not to grimace. A sliver of bacon was stuck between his teeth. "We got a whack job scheduled for today."

"A…..what?" Ginny frowned. What did _whack_  mean?

He winked conspiratorially. "Aw, come on….you know. The ol' one-two. One being  _avada_. Two being  _kadavra_."

Ginny froze in her chair. Did Thane just say what she thought he did? "You're…..you're going to  _kill_ someone?" she squeaked.

"Shh…..someone will hear you!" he hissed. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Life ain't all crumpets and cream. People die everyday. But this time, it will be better.  _She'll_ be getting her comeuppance. Thinks she's so great and fine. Bossing us around like she's a queen." He snorted. "Bloody ogress is what she is." He looked at Ginny's shocked face. "She wants him to die slowly. Cruelly. But the trick's on her. Little does she know we'll be killing the other."

Ginny was about to come unglued. "Thane Mackabee, you can't be killing  _anyone_! It's murder!"

He gave her a hard look. "Grow up, doll. It's life. Thought you'd understand that, having been through a war. Besides, why should you care? She told us you'd already been helping her."

"I…...I haven't been helping anyone!"

Had the wizard before her been smoking doxy droppings? Ginny was beginning to think he was seriously unhinged. And who was this nameless  _she_  he kept mentioning?

"That's not what I heard," he said smugly. "Marietta told us you'd helped her with our first job. Taking out Potter. By the way…..thanks for that. Talk about an easy kill. Just like fishing out of a barrel."

Marietta?  _Marietta Edgecombe_? And…...oh, dear God.  _Harry_. Ginny began to see spots before her. She couldn't have spoken if she'd wanted to.

Mackabee went on, not noticing the paleness of her features. "Yeah…...you giving the boss the inside intel on him made that one of the easiest assignments we'd ever had. But this other has been trickier. We had to learn their habits, their patterns. Funny thing is, Draco Malfoy doesn't have many. Must have been something his father taught him. Keep mixing it up, don't be predictable. Basic defense, you know. Now his wife….there are no surprises with her. She's as constant as the North Star. She'll be just as easy to off as her first husband." He then looked down at his pocketwatch. "Say…..we should be through by teatime. Want to meet up afterwards?"

Ginny looked at him, tears glimmering in her eyes. In a small voice, she asked, "Thane…..you…..you're saying your target today is…...Hermione?"

He cocked his head funnily. "You got a problem with that? Better her than him. She's nothing but mudblood trash." He stroked her cheek with his finger. "I know you hate her, so this shouldn't bother you. Just think of it as a present from me. All right, doll?" Then he leaned down to kiss the same cheek. Giving her a wave, he said, "Later." Then he apparated away.

Ginny stayed glued to her chair, her heart beating a mile a minute. She couldn't think. All she could feel was this enormous pressure on her chest while hearing a weird ringing in her ears. Before she knew what was happening, she'd fainted, her body slipping down to the floor.

She stayed blissfully unaware of her pain for the next couple of hours.

* * *

 

By the time Draco and his family had met up with Pansy and Neville, the little restaurant they had planned to eat at was awash with medics from St. Mungo's. They stood outside the door to the cafe as a levitation lift was directed inside.

"I wonder what happened?" asked Pansy.

"Someone must have fallen ill," said Hermione.

"I hope this isn't an indication of the food here," joked Neville. His wife gave him a punch in the ribs.

"Nev…..that isn't funny."

Neville looked shamefaced until Draco shook his head and said, "Don't listen to Tubby. It  _was_ funny ."

Fortunately, Pansy was talking to Hermione and didn't hear him.

Neville laughed. "You like living dangerously, don't you, mate?"

The girls shushed them when the medics came back out with the patient. Hermione took one look at the long red hair hanging down from the stretcher.

"Ginny?" she whispered. What had happened to her one-time friend?

Pansy scrunched up her nose, her face showing disgust. "Maybe she was poisoned. We could only be so lucky."

"Pansy," Neville chided.

Hermione noticed that no one followed her out. "Was she alone?" she wondered aloud.

Pansy snorted. "Probably. Most people don't relish eating with a bitc…."

"Pansy," Neville interrupted. "That's unkind."

"So? Doesn't mean it's not true."

"I hope she'll be okay," said Hermione. In spite of the grief the Weasleys had put her and Harry through, she couldn't help but feel pity for the witch.

Pansy rolled her eyes, but Neville said, "That's what I love about you, 'Mione. You're a good soul."

"And what am I?" huffed Pansy as she put her hands on her hips. "Chopped liver?"

Draco laughed. "More like a stuffed she-devil."

Pansy swatted her old friend. "You better be glad your wife is here, or I would show you just how she-devilly I can be."

Draco ignored Pansy and pulled Hermione into his arms. "Thank goodness you're with me," he murmured against her ear. "You're my lucky charm."

* * *

 

When Ginny came to, she opened her eyes to see her youngest brother sitting on the edge of her bed.

"You okay?"

She blinked, trying to get her bearings. She looked at the sterile white walls. Hospital walls. She was at St. Mungo's.

"What happened?" she whispered.

Ron took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You were eating at the Colt & Centaur. They said you passed out. The people at the restaurant freaked. They couldn't rouse you. So they called St. Mungo's. That's where you are. Mum and Dad were here while the healers did some diagnostic spells. They told me to stay with you once they found out you were okay. The healers said you were just suffering from a shock, is all."

As she listened to Ron, her conversation with Thane rushed back with a vengeance. Ginny took a shuddering breath.

He looked at her oddly. "What is it, Gin?"

"Mione….." she whimpered.

Ron's brow rose. " _Hermione_? What about her?"

Ginny grabbed Ron's arm. "I've got to get out of here. You've got to help me, Ron. There's going to be an attempt on Hermione's life today. We've got to tell her…...got to protect her and Draco." She bowed her head and began to cry. "It's all my fault."

Ron's expression was a mixture of bewilderment and worry. But all he said was, "They said you could leave as soon as you came to. Let's go."

* * *

 

James was the first to notice the veiled customer when she walked into their store. His mummy and daddy were in the back making a batch of liquid leviosa for Halloween. George Weasley had requested a supply of it for his joke shop. Hermione hummed as she stirred the orangey brew. The first years at Hogwarts had a tradition of dressing as bats for the holiday. And bats needed to fly. Two tablespoons of the concoction would enable them to rise a few feet off the ground and the extra amount of hippogriff feathers in it would promise flight for at least a minute. Long enough to feel the thrill of flying yet short enough to keep from getting into any real trouble. She was glad George sent in the order. He'd come around after Harry's death and apologized. Hermione knew what it cost him to say it. Losing Fred had warped the surviving twin; but life had a way of renewing everything, even broken hearts. Hermione had discovered that for herself. She looked over at Draco. He was standing at the counter, patiently picking the leaves off a shrivelfig. She watched his fingers as they grabbed each leaf. Draco had such beautiful hands. She sighed. She felt like a silly schoolgirl with a massive crush, but she couldn't help it. She was completely besotted with her husband.

Hearing Hermione's sigh, Draco looked up. "Anything the matter, love?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing but your wife realizing what a lucky witch she is to have you. Draco….I….I love you. So, so much."

He grinned at her. "Feeling a bit sentimental, are we?"

Hermione laughed. "I know; I'm being completely barmy. But you always have that effect on me."

He put down his shrivelfig and walked over to the cauldron where Hermione stood. Cupping her face in his hands, he bent down and gave her a sweet kiss. His lips still touching hers, he murmured, "The same here, Mrs. Malfoy. You've bewitched me, body and soul."

Draco had just decided to give Hermione a full on snog when they heard James talking to someone in the store.

"Guess I better go see who that is," he sighed before he gave her a playful swat on her bum.

Hermione chuckled. "Watch it. Or I'll pay you back tonight.."

Draco winked at her. "I'm counting on that."

He walked out to see a veiled figure crouching down in front of James. She held a small golden ring between her two fingers. The light coming in through the windows reflected off the polished metal. He heard her ask James if he would like to have the shiny ring. A feeling of alarm came over him. Although the witch had said nothing outwardly threatening, Draco knew the exchanging of jewelry in the magical world could have many serious consequences.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a hardened voice while subtly pulling James away from the woman.

Her eyes were all he could see. They stared at him coldly. Unblinking. Like a shark's.

"Yes," she said as she slowly rose to stand. "As you see, I have an affliction that forces me to remain covered. A friend of mine recommended you and your lovely wife to me. Told me you were master potioneers."

That explanation wasn't enough to make Draco feel better. His internal hackles stayed raised. It was an instinct that had been honed by the war. It had saved his life several times. He wasn't going to discount it now.

"You want us to make potion for you?" Everything about this felt false to Draco. Why was the witch seeking them out? Why not go to St. Mungo's? He asked her as much.

 _Blasted Slytherin,_ thought Marietta. Too clever for her comfort. Aloud, she said, "I need something that will give me relief from the constant pain I suffer. Their potions no longer affect me."  _There. Maybe he'll believe that._

Draco stared at her. "I'm not sure if….."

"Why don't you call you wife out here to discuss it with us?" the veiled figure suggested. "Being a witch herself, she may better understand my needs."

"Just a moment," he said.

Draco wasn't going to take any chances; he leaned down and whispered in James' ear. "Jamie…..I need you to grab some floo powder, and I want you to go to Uncle Theo's. Do you understand? I need you to go  _now_."

The little boy looked up into Draco's eyes. James could tell his new daddy meant business. He knew he needed to obey. Good thing he knew how to floo by himself.

Aloud he heard Draco say, "Would you ask Mummy to come out?"

James somehow understood that Draco was protecting him from the strange lady. A quiet seriousness enveloped the little boy. He nodded once, then scampered off.

A minute later, Hermione stepped out. She took one look at veiled woman and said, "Marietta."

The woman nodded. "Hermione. It's been a long time."

Draco sucked in a breath. Marietta Edgecombe. He remembered her now. He recalled the story Harry told him about her. How she'd ratted them out and the consequences that had come from it. But Draco didn't understand why she was stilled veiled. Wasn't remorse supposed to cause the  _snitch_ scar to fade? Perhaps Marietta had never regretted her actions. Somehow, that made him feel justified in keeping his guard up.

"Marietta…..why are you here?" he heard Hermione ask. Trust his wife not to beat around the bush.

Instead of answering, Marietta waved her hand in the air. " _Homenum Revelio."_

Draco stiffened. All around them were shadowy forms. He immediately stepped in front of Hermione to act as a shield.

Marietta snorted. "Do you think that will help? That won't do any good. Besides, I don't want  _her_."

That stymied Draco. "You want…..me?"

Marietta smirked. "Actually, I had a younger wizard in mind."

A sudden shiver ran down Draco's spine. Now he understood why she'd tried to give James that ring. He silently let out a breath of relief. James should be at Theo's by now.

Unfortunately, Hermione didn't know he had sent James away. Behind him, he heard her gasp. "James? Oh, dear God, no…."

Marietta laughed then. Flicking her hand again, the shadowy forms gained substance. Draco swallowed. Before them stood twenty wizards. Most of them he could name.

"Hello, young Malfoy," said a familiar voice. Draco turned to look into the face of Vincent's father.

"Mr. Crabbe," he forced the words out of his mouth. "Established some new friendships, I see."

The older man smiled but it did not reach his dead-looking eyes. "Yes, so it would seem." Then his eyes shifted to Hermione. "I could say the same of you."

Behind him, Hermione brazenly demanded, "State your business and get out of here."

Draco could feel her knees shaking, but her voice sounded strong. Bold. God, how he loved his lioness.

"Ballsy," the elder Crabbe chuckled. "I do admire spirit. But that won't help you this time."

"Can we get on with it?" huffed one of the men. "There are other matters I need to attend to today."

Marietta scowled at the impatient wizard. "I've paid you well enough. You can wait on me."

She turned her eyes to Hermione. "I wanted to be here today so you would see who had bested you, Granger," she spit out. "These fine gentlemen have worked for me before. They were the last faces your precious Potter saw." She let that sink it and watched as Hermione put two and two together.

Marietta felt a deep satisfaction when Hermione's face wrinkled in dismay. " _You_? But  _why?_ What had he done to you?"

"Oh…..nothing. Absolutely nothing," she said casually. "Harry just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time while married to the wrong witch. Same as Draco here."

Hot tears dashed against Hermione's cheeks. She felt her heart pounding with impending doom.

 _Think, Hermione!_ she said to herself.  _There's got to be something you can do!_

Then she saw it. Draco's wand was sticking out of his back pocket. Wrapping her hand around the wood, she tried to pull it out.

"Oh, no you don't," said Marietta as soon as she saw what Hermione was doing. She quickly accio'd the wand from her hand. "Not this time."

Hermione screamed in frustration.

Marietta laughed.

"Please," Hermione begged. "It's me you're after. I'll…..I'll go with you. Kill me. But leave my family alone!"

"No, Hermione!" Draco cried out.

"You're in no position to dictate terms, Granger," said Marietta cooly. "I'll do what I want. And what I want is to do far worse than kill you. I plan to  _hurt_  you. And I wish to go on... hurting you. Your husband and son will help me do that."

Hermione felt Draco tense at Marietta's words. A sudden, fiery rage came over her. She had been unable to help Harry. But Merlin help her, she was not going to let harm come to Draco. She felt her magic rising in spite of her shock and grief at learning whom Harry's killer had been. She let the churn of righteous anger bubble underneath the surface. She let it fuel her. For just a second, she closed her eyes.

 _Help me_ , she spoke to the power just under the surface of her skin. The same power that resided in Draco.  _Protect us both._

Then she opened her eyes. If anyone had looked closely, they would have seen her brown irises crackling with a golden light.

No one was going to take what was hers.

* * *

 

"James?" Theo said, surprised when he saw the little boy in his fireplace. He put down the newspaper he'd been reading. "What are you doing here?"

James looked up at his mischievous uncle, but there was no corresponding playfulness this time in the little boy's face. "Daddy told me to come. Dayuhs a bad lady at da shop. I could feels it. Daddy says fuh me to comes heeyah…..but I's wu-weed, Unca Theo."

Theo stared at James. He didn't doubt anything the lad said. Theo knew children saw things simply. More often than not, accurately. Moving over into the fireplace with him, he said, "Hold on to me, Jamie. Let's go get Uncle Blaise."

* * *

 

"Were you told anything else?" Ron said as he and his sister hurried from the hospital.

"No. Only that it would be today."

"Where?"

Ginny paused. She didn't know. "Let's try their shop first."

* * *

 

"Marietta…..it's time," said Crabbe. "Let's be done with it."

She smirked at Hermione. "Very well."

Draco heard Hermione behind him growl, sounding like a cornered animal. He felt her magic swirling around them both, becoming dangerous. Wild. He tried to touch her, but Marietta had a few of the men pull the two of them apart.

"Better say your good-byes now," she snickered, "before the screaming starts."

Draco looked one last time at the love of his life. At that moment, he didn't feel fear. Just a deep sadness and regret that his time with Hermione had been cut so short. Gently entering her mind, he said,  _If you see a chance….I want you to apparate out of here. Do you hear me? Don't try to save me. Leave. Promise me._

Hermione wasn't having it.

 _You're bloody crazy if you think I'm going to leave you, Draco Malfoy,_ she thought furiously, her power making her hair start to frizz with static electricity.  _We're smarter than them. We still have our wandless magic. Don't you dare give up._ Then she added more softly,  _Please. I can't…..I just can't…..live without you._

Watching them, Marietta sneered. "Aw…...isn't that  _precious_? All those longing looks…..how  _sweet_. But I've made my boys wait long enough, so let's get started." She nodded to Crabbe. "Now don't forget to give Mrs. Malfoy a show."

Clearing his throat, he said, "Men. You have your orders. You know what to do." At that moment twenty wands rose in the air. Draco turned his face to Crabbe. His eyes burned, but he refused to blink. He knew Hermione wanted him to fight, but what could he do that wouldn't get her killed, too? As he stared at the older man who had at one time been a close friend of his father's, he saw a sudden shifting in his eyes. They had moved from him…...to Hermione.

Draco suddenly realized what was going to happen. Marietta was about to be double-crossed. She had never been privy to a death eater's fidelity, but Draco had. Crabbe had not broken faith with his father; he was still loyal to Lucius, to the cause they'd shared. He wasn't going to kill the pureblood son of a former comrade; instead, he would kill…... _the mudblood._

With the reflexes and speed of a seeker, he pushed Hermione to the ground, while at the same time crying out, " _Protego_!"

He watched as multiple points of light hit the shield he'd wandlessly raised. All of them directed to where Hermione had been standing..

Marietta shrieked. "Not her, you imbeciles!  _Him_!"

" _Relashio!_ " Crabbe yelled. The bubble of protection around Hermione immediately released, popping as it disappeared.

Hermione wasted no time. Throwing all her strength and magic into it, she sent a non-verbal hex Marietta's way. She didn't even know what curse she'd sent. All she knew was that it had used up the buildup of power within her. She fell to the ground, exhausted, just as the other witch started screaming. Vicious boils began to erupt over Marietta's body. She scrabbled to throw her veil off, the wool of it causing agony everywhere it touched her flesh. The hardened group of men now saw their mistress for the first time. They winced at the sight. Marietta's face was a macabre mask of scarred flesh.

Hermione, panting from exertion of casting the spell, blanched in horror.  _That_  was not the result of the charm she'd put on that parchment so long ago. Something terrible had happened to Marietta. She looked like she'd been torn apart and put back together by someone who didn't know how a human should look.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Crabbe cried out to his men, "Kill the mudblood!"

Then everything became chaos.

Before the assassins could cast their curses, multiple pops came from different areas of the room.

Blaise, along with a team of Aurors, had apparated in, their wands at the ready. They immediately began blasting the group of assassins with everything from  _expelliarmus_  to  _sectumsempra_. Potions arranged on the shelves exploded from the melee. The freed liquids dripping down the walls perfumed the air with a mixture of exotic aromas. At the same time, Ron and Ginny appeared. Seeing the bedlam around them, they acted quickly. Ron raced over to Draco, throwing a shield over his old enemy. Ginny stood in front of Hermione, meeting hexes with hexes of her own. Behind her, Hermione was using her magic as best she could, but Ginny could tell something was wrong with her former friend. Her spells packed no punch.

So intent on the men, neither witch noticed when Marietta shakily rose on one elbow to send a  _diffindo_  curse Hermione's way. Ginny saw the flash of light right before it struck her friend. She instinctively stepped in its path to block it with a  _protego_. But she was a millisecond too late.

Both she and Hermione were hit.

* * *

 

When Hermione finally woke up, the first thing she saw was a worried-looking Pansy. Neville was standing by his wife. Draco hovered nearby.

"Uhhh…" she groaned.

Draco was the first one to hear her. Bending low, he kissed her forehead. "Sweetheart…..I'm here."

"Whe….where….am I?" She managed to get out. Everything still looked hazy to her.

"You're at St. Mungo's love," he said. Hesitating, he asked, "Do you…...do you remember….."

Remember? Was there something to remember? Then it hit her. The fight. Being struck with a curse. "Draco…...James….is James alright?" She moaned, panic beginning to fill her.

Draco gently gave her her shoulder a squeeze. "Shh, no need to worry. James is fine. He's with Mother. Theo is over at the house, keeping them both entertained. Well…..at least James is being entertained. I doubt Mother is."

Hearing that, Hermione quieted. Then she said, "What happened? Was anyone besides me hurt?"

The three surrounding her bed gave each other a guilty look. Hermione tried to sit up, but an incredible pain made her sag back against the mattress.

"For heaven's sake, don't do that," fussed Pansy. "You'll open it up."

Hermione blinked at her friend. Grunting, she asked, "Open  _what_  up?"

Draco laid his hand on the crown of her head. He couldn't stop touching her now that she was awake. "Marietta tried to curse you with a  _diffindo_. You and Ginny were both hit."

"Oh." Hermione stilled. She knew that was the severing curse. How bad had she been hurt? "Where….?"

Draco knew what she was thinking. Quickly trying to put her mind at ease, he said, "You didn't get hit with the full strength of the spell. It sliced you in the ribcage. Made quite a nasty gash. Thankfully, one of the Aurors who came with Blaise had also been trained as a medi-witch. They got you stabilized before you were taken to St. Mungo's. You may end up with a bit of a scar, but that's all."

Hermione gingerly touched her side. All she could feel at the moment were the bandages that covered most of her torso. "What about Ginny? How is she?"

No one responded.

"Draco?" she looked up at her husband. "Is Ginny okay? Where did the spell hit her?"

Swallowing hard, he took her hand and said, "Her neck."

That was answer enough.

Hermione's chin began to quiver. "She…..she didn't make it?"

"No, love. I'm sorry."

Hermione began to cry again. Pansy and Neville murmured to Draco that they would be back in a little bit. They knew he alone could best comfort his wife.

As soon as they left, Draco enlarged the bed and carefully laid down beside Hermione so as not to jostle her. Stroking her hair, he let her cry as he consoled her with kisses and whispers of love.

"Did….did Ginny suffer? Oh, God…...I can't stand to think she might have. And because of me…..."

That thought turned Hermione's tears to loud sobbing.

"Shhhh, love….don't do this to yourself," Draco said, troubled at Hermione's grief. "I promise you on my wand…..she passed quickly. Ron was beside her. She died in his arms. At least she had that."

"Where was I?" It hurt Hermione to think she hadn't been able to say goodbye to her one-time friend who'd saved her life.

"They were busy working on you," Draco whispered. "They knew there was no hope for Ginny, but they thought you still had a chance….."

"Because she saved me." Hermione's bottom lip began to quiver. A new batch of tears flooded her eyes.

"I was so scared I was going to lose you," Draco admitted, his heart squeezing painfully at the memory. He wiggled closer to her, rubbing her neck with his nose, breathing in her comforting scent. "The bleeding…...it…..it was awful." He lifted his head to look at her. Hermione saw his eyes were shining suspiciously. "You're not allowed to  _ever_  scare me like that again. Is that clear?"

She just nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to kick up a fuss about his bossy tone. Besides, she knew if the tables had been turned, she would have been saying the same thing to him.

After a few minutes passed, Hermione's tears turned to sniffles.

"I…..I don't understand," she hiccuped. "Why was Ginny there? How did she know we needed help? Why would she even care? She hated me. Why would she sacrifice herself like that?"

Draco had wondered that, too. "I don't know."

It was a puzzle piece that didn't seem to fit.

* * *

 

A few days later, Hermione received the surprise of her life. Draco was helping her sit up in bed, propping pillows behind her back when the door opened and in walked Ron Weasley.

"Hi," he said uncertainly.

"Ron…..," she choked out. She could see the red rims of his eyes, the dark circles underneath them. Ron had been grieving for his sister. She'd heard her funeral had been the day before.

 _First Fred…..now Ginny_ , Hermione thought sadly.

These are for you," he said as he gave her a bouquet of daisies. "Er, I….I thought I remembered them being your favorite flower."

Ron gave them to Draco who in turn, handed them to his wife.

'I see mine is not the first offering," he tried to say lightly. Red roses banked the left side of Hermione's bed, pink tulips graced the window sill and some strange little flower that Hermione had never seen before was on the counter by the sink. She knew it was a magical hybrid of Neville's, but that was all she knew.

"No…..not the first….but, yes, you remembered correctly. I love daisies." Then she couldn't stand it any longer. Reaching out with her arms, she said, "Ron…. _please_."

Her former friend needed no further prompting. He immediately went over and sat on the side of her bed, wrapping his long arms around her. The two remaining members of the Golden Trio cried over their their many losses; their friendship…..Harry…..Ginny. But for Hermione,, they were healing tears. She and Ron would never be as close again as they had been as children, but at least now they wouldn't be enemies anymore.

"I'm so sorry, Ron. Truly sorry."

He brushed her apologies away. "It's not you who should be sorry, 'Mione. It's me. What I did…..what my family did….it was wrong…...despicable. Can you ever forgive me?" He peeked out from under his thick thatch of red hair.

 _He desperately needs a haircut,_  thought Hermione. Then with a small pang, she recalled all the times in the past when she would chide him to get one.

"If you say no, I won't be mad. I know I deserve it."

But of course, she didn't say that. She told Ron she forgave him, had forgiven him a long time ago. She told him she had moved on, and she encouraged him to do the same.

"Yeah…...I suppose I should," he said as he gave Draco a quick look out of the side of his eye. "Listen…...one last thing and I won't bother you anymore…."

He gave them the final piece of the puzzle. Ron told Hermione and Draco everything Ginny had told him before they'd apparated into their shop. "She hated herself, 'Mione. Couldn't make peace with what had happened. She'd become a shadow of her former self. Then when she found out how Marietta had used her to get to Harry, well….." his voice dropped. Clearing his throat, he said, "I'll miss Ginny. But I reckon she's happier now than she would have been had she lived."

After Ron left, and while Draco was busy finding a vase for her daisies, Hermione thought back to her dream of the library when Harry had showed up to help her with her doubts in marrying Draco. Maybe wherever he and Ginny were now, he was helping her learn how to forgive herself.

After all, eternity was a long time to carry guilt.

* * *

 

The papers were full of Marietta's trial on the day Hermione was discharged from St. Mungo's. It had come out through the use of veritaserum that Marietta had been kidnaped during the war. She had been tortured. Her torturer? Bellatrix LeStrange. Bellatrix had never ceased in her hatred for the only mudblood who had escaped her wrath. After Marietta's capture, Bellatrix transferred her hatred of Hermione to her prisoner. Draco's mad aunt showed no mercy. The abuse Marietta suffered broke her. Something snapped in the mind of the poor girl. The last thing Marietta's mind processed before she cracked was the one thing her mind held onto. Which was Bellatrix's hatred for Hermione. It became her own. She pushed down the memories of her own torture; in their place new memories were created. Ones where Hermione's  _sneak_  hex had caused her condition. Healers thought her mind may have been trying to protect itself from the unrelenting trauma she'd had to endure. But whatever had caused it, the damage was apparently permanent. Instead of being sentenced to Azkaban or to the Kiss, she'd been given indefinite confinement within the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's, there to receive treatment and care _._

As for Crabbe Senior, there was no hesitancy in giving him a one-way ticket to Azkaban, along with Mackabee and the other thugs Marietta had hired.

On the day that she was to leave the hospital, Narcissa and James had shown up with Draco to welcome Hermione back to the manor. Narcissa had worried greatly about her daughter-in-law and wanted to make the day a celebratory one. She kept the conversation going by telling her daughter-in-law of all the changes she'd made to her and Draco's suite while she'd been recovering. "And you know that pretty blush comforter you admired in Braywick's a few weeks ago? I was able to special order you one. It came in yesterday. Of course, those old green window treatments looked positively  _ghoulish_  next to it, so Skippy and I spelled them into plantation blinds. I really think you'll love the effect. The room's so much lighter and brighter and….."

Hermione leaned over and whispered to Draco, "I only need  _you_ to make a room bright for me. But don't tell your mum that."

Draco winked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

At that moment, Hermione's healer came into the room to discharge her. "Alright. Here are your instructions. I will want to see you again in two weeks. And here are your supplemental potions…...take this one in the morning and that one at night. They'll accelerate your healing and will build back your core strength."

"And this one?" Hermione asked as she held up a bottle with a bluish liquid in it. It looked somehow familiar, but she couldn't place it.

The healer said, "Well now…..that's only if you need it. But so far, you've shown no indication of developing morning sickness."

Both Draco and Hermione paused in what they were doing. Together, they said, "Morning sickness?"

Their twin expressions were comical to the healer.

He said, "Yes…...oh. Didn't you know? Most witches do early on the second time around."

Draco swallowed. "You're saying…...we're….that is, Hermione is….. _pregnant_?"

The healer nodded. "Yes, she is. That's why she suffered magical depletion. A witch's body pulls what it needs in growing new life. In your wife's case, her body needed more."

"Why would she need more?" Was something wrong with Hermione's pregnancy?

The healer grinned at the two worried parents-to-be. "Because she's carrying twins. A boy and a girl. And from what I can determine at this point in time, they are both going to be very powerful magically. Just like their mother and father."

It was hard to know who squealed louder after that.

But James thought it was his Daddy.

* * *

 

 **AN:**  Sometimes villains have the saddest story.

The dialogue where Marietta says she wishes to go on hurting Hermione came from the movie,  _Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan._


	9. Chapter 9

 Epilogue

The weeks before Christmas brought the snowiest weather Wiltshire had seen since the the big blizzard of 1963. All around the manor, the landscape was transformed into a winter wonderland. The trees bowed in submission to the flurries; the fountain in the garden was festooned with tapered icicles. The ley lines deep in the earth hummed the ground into a temporary slumber, it already being tucked snugly beneath its blanket of snow. James loved it. Having lived in London all his life before he and Hermione came to live at the manor, he reveled in the glistening whiteness that went as far as his eyes could see. There was no mush, no dirty snow thrown up onto the sidewalks by passing vehicles. Everything was pristine…..clean. He was outside as much as his parents would allow; helping Skippy gather fresh snow to make snow cream, sledding down the hills with Draco, or bedeviling the peacocks whenever they wandered from their shelter. James' naughty giggles permeated the grounds whenever he was able to trick one of those harassed birds into running onto the frozen pond at the front of the manor. He would double over in laughter watching them skate, slipping and sliding while squawking out their indignity at being treated so disrespectfully. James built several massive snow giants with the help of his Uncle Theo, who spelled the statues to throw snowballs at any creature who mistakenly wandered onto the Malfoy grounds. There were also official snowball wars. James and Theo launched many attacks upon Blaise and Neville when they could persuade the two to join them in their wintertime fights.

One time when Draco ventured out to call James to lunch, Theo suggested a new target.

"Watch this, Jamie," he declared. "Daddy is about to get clobbered!"

But James made him stop by holding out his little hand and saying, "No! You can't hits my daddy, Unca Theo!"

"Party Pooper. Why can't I?"

James, not understanding the phrase and that he was being teased, stuck out his tongue and said, " Yous the poopy pants. So dare!"

Then he ran to Draco as fast as his little legs could go. "I's pwotected you, Daddy, so pway wif me!"

"Let's eat a bite of lunch first, then Daddy promises to come back out and play with his little snow monkey." Taking James' hand, Draco called out, "You coming?" to Theo.

"It depends. What's on the menu?"

Draco looked down at his son. "James' favorite. Macaroni and cheese."

The little boy hopped in glee. "Yummy! I wanna eats! Come on, Unca Theo!"

Whenever James asked him to play, Draco always would. He remembered wishing his father had played with him when he was young and didn't want to ever be a cause of disappointment to the little boy he loved as his own. Which James now legally was, the adoption process having gone through without a hitch, thanks to Ron having put a permanent stop to his family's persecutions. Draco loved to twirl James around until he became dizzy. Then they would both plop down into the snow to make snow angels, although Theo said their impressions reminded him of the Fat Friar instead.

Hermione would join them at times. She didn't enjoy the cold and snow as much as the men did, but she and sometimes, Narcissa and Pansy, would bring their boys hot chocolate and fresh spice cookies. Pansy's pregnancy was progressing splendidly and so was Hermione's. In fact, Hermione was just as big as Pansy, due to her carrying twins, even though she wasn't as far along. Draco worried and doted on her as his moods dictated. He insisted she wear  _sturdy_  shoes, especially when she went outside. He'd had a conniption when she'd walked down some icy stairs in high heels. He made sure she didn't miss any meals, either, always saying she was eating for three now. And when she caught a cold the first week in December, he just about drove her wild with his fretting.

"Draco Malfoy, if I see you with that thermometer one more time, I'm gonna stick it where the sun doesn't shine," she growled, then sneezed.

"You can sticks it outside, Mummy. Da sun's not shining, 'cuz it's snowing again," said James, hearing his mother and trying to be helpful.

Draco laughed. "I think Mummy needs a nap. You know she's always cranky when she's tired," he said to James.

"Kwanky," agreed James sagely. "Daddy's wight, Mummy."

"You and James are ganging up on me! It's not fair," she complained, but then nullified her argument by yawning.

After Draco had been successful in getting Hermione to bed, she stopped him from leaving by holding on to his arm. "Stay with me until I go to sleep?"

He never said no whenever she asked him that. Draco would spoon her from behind, always wrapping an arm around her waist so he could put his hand on her stomach.

"Sleep, Little Ones," he would whisper. "Let your Mummy rest."

Sometimes Draco massaged Hermione to sleep; when she was antsy and couldn't settle down, he would shag her into exhaustion (particularly when James was away, having a play day with Theo, or Christmas shopping with Baboo) and sometimes he would sleep with her, especially if he wasn't needed at the shop. Malfoy's Apothecary was no longer opened to the general public. Instead, Draco had contracted out with the magical hospitals across the UK, the only exception to that being George Weasley's joke shop. He felt it wasn't safe keeping his door opened to anyone who wanted to enter. He told Hermione he was never going to put James at risk again.

"And it's not just James, either," he'd added. "We've got the twins to consider. I mean…..if we were a lower profile couple, it might not be necessary…..but we're both too well-known. Too much of a potential target. I'm no longer willing to risk it. Especially after what we've been through."

His decision hadn't hurt business. On the contrary, they'd had to hire on staff and enlarge their shop. Draco sometimes missed making the potions himself, but having extra time with his family made up for it.

* * *

 

Two weeks later, he and Hermione traveled to Godric's Hollow. Hermione had not been back since the funeral to visit Harry's grave and she'd wanted to do it before Christmas arrived. They carried a wreath with them made of white lilies, red roses and pink carnations. It reminded her of the wreath she had conjured all those years ago when she and Harry had visited his parents' graves on Christmas Eve. Draco had spelled it to remain protected from the elements. As they walked through the quiet cemetery, Draco thought back to that day. It was now a little over a year since Harry had been laid to rest. He stood by his wife as she placed her hand on Harry's tombstone and knelt beside it.

"Harry, James has gotten so big. He's reading far beyond his age level…..up to Year 3 now; some material even from Year 4. He's always asking questions, always laughing. He has your laugh, you know. Everytime I hear it, I hear you. He's such a cheerful child."

She paused for a moment, as if unsure what to say next.

"Tell him about Theo and James," Draco offered.

"What? Oh, right. Well, what Draco is wanting me to tell you is that James and Theo are best friends…..can you believe it? It's so funny to watch the two of them. Theo's always over at the manor. Draco told him he needed to get a job, but I think he'd rather play with James. Honestly, he's such a baby." She chuckled. "I guess the bright side is Draco and I always have a babysitter handy.

Er, speaking of Draco…..…...we're married now. We have been since this summer. I fell in love with him, Harry. He's so good to me and James."

At that, she felt Draco squeeze her shoulder. Resting her hand on top of his, she went on. "And guess what? We're expecting. Twins, Harry. A boy and a girl.

I wanted you to know I'm cared for. And that I'm truly happy. I'll always miss you….but I love my life with Draco. I...I love him, Harry. So, so much. He's perfect for me."

She felt another caress on her shoulder.

"One last thing, Harry, before we go. Ginny saved my life. She died saving me. If you see her, please tell her thank you for me. Tell her I forgive her for everything…...and that it's okay for her to forgive herself. Tell her that mine and Draco's daughter will carry her name, so she will be remembered. I'm not talking about remembering the bad years. Just all the good ones. Because there were alot of those.

Bye, Harry. I love you." Then she gave the headstone a quick kiss.

As Draco helped Hermione back up from her crouching position, he once again smelled the fragrance that had surrounded him the afternoon when Harry's magic had said its last farewell. A breezy, sea-salty smell filled his senses. For just a second, his vision was tinted with the blues and greens of a sea wave riding the ocean's tide.

Draco smiled.

Perhaps a touch of Harry's magic lingered here at this spot. Maybe it was thanking him for keeping his promise.

* * *

 

The ones who'd supported Hermione the year before were invited again that year for a Christmas Eve dinner. Blaise and Luna came with Lorenzo and with the news that they they were expecting again.

"Another one?" asked Theo. "So soon? You know, there are ways to prevent that."  
Blaise thumped his friend on the head. "We were trying for another one! We want our children to be close in age to each other. Besides, babies are a blessing, you twat."

Theo looked skeptical. "If you say so. I personally wouldn't know."

"That's because you are one," teased Pansy.

Theo leered at her. "Ooh...think I'm a blessing, do you now?" Looking over at Neville, he said, "Sorry old bean, but I think your wife has the hots for me."

"Oh,  _p_ _uleeze_. You knew I was calling you a baby."

Draco chuckled at the conversation going on. His arm around Hermione, he played with the tendrils of his wife's hair that had escaped the loose knot at the nape of her neck. What a difference a year made. The year before, pain and loss permeated the room. This year, their house was filled with light. The sweet giggles of children, the laughter of friends…the joyous tinkling of flutes toasting the season…..love and life filled the air.

Later that night, after everyone had said their goodbyes and after James had finally been put to bed, too excited by Father Christmas coming to fall asleep quickly, Draco and Hermione made their way back downstairs to enjoy the fire and lights on the tree. It was dark now in the room; Narcissa had blown out all the candles. The tree lights and fire were the only illuminations.

"I have something for you," Hermione confessed. She was cuddled up to Draco on the large sofa and at that moment was running her forefinger down his nose. She secretly thought her husband had the most perfect profile she'd ever seen. "Would you like it now or in the morning?"

"What is it?" Draco asked lazily. Hermione's ministrations were making him sleepy.

Laughing, she said, "You'll have to open it up to find out, you indolent creature." She slowly rose from the couch, groaning as she did. "I foresee this piece of furniture becoming trouble. It's hard enough now to get up from it."

"You need me to help you, love?"

"No….I'm alright. I'll be right back.'

Draco watched as Hermione made her way slowly to the massive fir that dominated the area. Standing in front of the decorated evergreen, Draco saw the outline of his wife's form. A year ago, he had wished for such a moment as this; to see Hermione round with their child. Now it was reality. He watched her as she pushed a branch here and there, trying to find the present she'd tucked away for him. Hermione was lovely in her motherhood. Her normally trim form had bloomed into lush curves. Hermione's skin, always clear, had become soft and dewy; her cheeks, creamy roses. Her hair shone like polished glass. She positively glowed. Draco had never seen a more beautiful woman. And to know that she was his...and would always be. His wife. His lover. The mother of his children. A sudden lump appeared in his throat.

He got up and went over to where she stood. Kneeling down before her, Draco placed his hands on the sides of her swollen belly. Then he leaned over and kissed the bump that cocooned his growing babes.

"You, my treasures, are Mummy's real gift to Daddy," he whispered. "And Daddy loves you so much."

They must have heard their father's voice, for a definite movement answered beneath his lips.

"Did you feel that?" he said excitedly, wonder showing in his eyes as he looked up at Hermione.

She laughed, running her fingers through Draco's silky hair. "I did. I think they were telling their daddy Happy Christmas."

The End

* * *

 

 **AN:**  Thanks to everyone who kept me company as we went on this little trip. I originally had planned this to be only three chapters, but I obviously don't know how to rein it in. In spite of that, this story is special to me. It's the first one of mine that touched  _my_  heart. I honestly hate to see it end.


End file.
